HAITD-BOOK 



OF 



ENGLISH AND AMERICAN 



LITEEATUKE. 



HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS OF 
THE WRITINGS OF EACH SUCCESSIVE PERIOD. 



BY 1/ 

ESTHER J. TRIMBLE 



LATE PROF. OF LITERATURE IN THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, WEST CHESTER, PA. 
AUTHOR OF "A CHART OF GENERAL LITERATURE," ETC. 




JAM 10 

JTo.../^.<i 




PHILADELPHIA : 

Eldredge & Brother, 

No. 17 North Seventh Street. 

1883. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by 
ELDREDGE & BROTHER, 
^ In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. ^ 



^^j; r^JX , 

J. FAGAN & SON, 
ELECTROTYPERS, PHILAd'A. ^ 





To THE READER. 



THE study of literature is the study of the works of an author, not 
the study of the criticisms of his works, nor details of his 
personal history. Some knowledge of the latter, however, is 
humanizing in its influence, and adds greatly to the pleasure 
derived from the study. 

It is impossible to appreciate the literature of any period with- 
out some knowledge of the every-day life of the people. In the 
present work, in order to bring the student into sympathy with 
the writers of the past, brief glimpses of the manners and customs 
of each successive period have been given, letting the writers 
themselves, wherever it was possible, present " the age and body 
of the time." 

The pupil cannot be too strongly recommended to study well 
the great founders of our literature. A love for the simple Saxon 
tongue may readily be acquired, and, for one who intends to make 
literature a study, the old writers should be considered first. If 
tb-B teacher has to create a taste for literature, it would not be 
amiss to begin with some writers of the present day, and so lead 
the pupil back to the " well of English undefyled." 

One of the most important lessons that the genuine student learns 
is that of sifting. It is impossible to remember everything, but it 
is of the utmost importance to learn to generalize, to take in as 
nearly as possible the general and prominent features of a sub- 
ject, and leaving details for a more thorough and minute exami- 
nation of some portion or portions of the subject. I have doubted, 
sometimes, the wisdom of assigning short lessons, unless the 
lesson cover some one subject. A mere paragraph in a text- 

iii 



iv 



TO TEE READER. 



book may serve for a lesson, expanded by reference to other 
works, or by observations from the teacher, for he who confines 
himself or his pupils to a text-book, is not teaching the subject, 
but the dictum of the one book. 

" Going through " a book, according to the ordinary acceptance 
of the term, is no more proof of having acquired an acquaintance 
with the subject, than going through a picture-gallery would ensure 
a knowledge of art- Absurd as the phrase is as applied to any 
subject, it is beyond expression absurd when applied to literature. 

The pupil may, however, with judicious training, have a fair 
glimpse of the outlines of the History of English Literature in a 
very few lessons, and these outlines may be filled in at discretion 
by the teacher, or by the student himself who studies with no 
other guide than books. The course of study will be determined 
by the amount of time the pupil has to devote to the subject. I 
would ofi"er the following suggestions : 

1. As the work is a connected history, and the character of 
each subsequent period is in a degree dependent on the preceding 
period, it is extremely desirable that any one intending to take " a 
course " in literature should begin at the beginning. The work is 
divided into seventeen chapters, each chapter representing an era. 
If the prominent features of each era could be given in one les- 
son, enabling the pupil to get through the outline of the subject in 
a few lessons, — merely the outline, — and then returning, take up 
whatever period may be deemed the most serviceable, the profit 
would be infinitely greater than studying with painful accuracy 
from the beginning to the end of the book, with the aim merely 
of " getting through." 

Suppose the era selected for especial study, after the outline prepa- 
ration, be the Elizabethan period. If in a term at school the pupil 
gains a lively interest in that one age, and a tolerable knowledge 
of the character of its literary productions, he has gained enough 
to grow upon ; his knowledge will not die there. And what, after 
all, can a school-training do but cultivate the soil for future " in- 
crease " ? 

2. Or, let the pupil whose time is limited devote himself only to 
the representative writers of a period, for instance, to Chaucer, 
Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Pope, Goldsmith, Burxs, Byron, 
Wordsworth, Mrs. Browning, Tennyson, Irving, Bryant, Long- 
fellow, Emerson, etc., associating the author as far as possible 
with contemporary events and characters. 

3. Or, if a taste has to be created, as before suggested, begin with 



TO THE READER. 



V 



any of the interesting writers of the present day, and insensibly 
lead the pupil up to the fountain's source, or dwell with him longer 
on modern writers alone. 

4. If the time will admit of detailed study, and the love for liter- 
ature be already kindled, the best possible plan is the simplest 
and most natural one of beginning at the beginning, studying 
thoroughly, and with every aid which the earnest student knows 
how to bring around him — dictionaries, maps, charts, and other 
works of reference, and continuing to the end, forming his own 
judgment of the merits of the writings under consideration. 
He will find his interest growing as he proceeds, perceiving that 
each age has been the stepping-stone to the next. 

5. It sometimes adds interest to a lesson to divide it into topics, 
letting each pupil find out all he can under one head. For in- 
stance, the teacher will say ; For the next lesson A. will tell us 
what he has learned about the early inhabitants of Britain ; B, 
will tell us where the English people came from ; C. all that he 
knows or can find out about the first Anglo-Saxon poem ; D. all 
concerning the first Anglo-Saxon poet, etc. Thus, each pupil com- 
ing with a budget of facts or ideas on his own topic, and all the 
class giving minute attention to his recital — each pupil being re- 
sponsible, in fact, for all that has been given by the whole class — 
the lesson may be made more profitable and interesting than for 
all to take the whole chapter. 

6. Another equally interesting exercise is to conduct a review 
by having the pupils themselves ask the question. Give, for in- 
stance, a certain period to be reviewed, and request each pupil to 
come prepared with, say ten questions upon that period, prepared, 
also, to answer them. The asking of a question frequently indi- 
cates the state of knowledge better than the answering. 

7. I would especially discourage teachers from dwelling too long 
upon minute details. Teach, rather, that 

" Not to know some trifles is a praise." 

For instance, the dates bounding the life of the chief repre- 
sentative of a period being known, it is not desirable to attempt 
to burden the memory with the dates of the birth and death of 
contemporaries. It shows more intelligence and knowledge of 
the subject to know about what time a minor author lived than 
to know the exact dates of his existence. There are comparatively 
few dates that should be committed to memory. These few being 
stamped indelibly on the mind, the student will learn to associate 
1* 



vi 



TO THE READER. 



minor ideas and events with the central, leading circumstances or 
character. Thus, Milton's dates are 1608-1674. The great events of 
this time are the Civil War, the execution of Charles I., etc. Learn- 
ing the position which Milton assumed in the struggle for liberty, 
his unceasing labors in behalf of his country, that his friends were 
the friends of Cromwell, of the Commonwealth, of Parliament, of 
Liberty, and Puritanism — against these the pupil will mentally 
array the King and his friends, the Royalists, the Church of Eng- 
land, and the writers who represented that party. He will recall, 
also, contemporary events in American history, how this same 
struggle for freedom of conscience in England planted the seeds 
of Liberty in New England. Identifying the writers with the 
events of the time, it would be but insignificant study to attempt 
to memorize individual dates. If a pupil is required to dwell too 
minutely on these smaller facts, the grander objects of the study 
will be sacrificed, and the power of generalizing will be left uncul- 
tivated. 

8. After pupils have gained a respectable knowledge of several 
authors, it is a good exercise to let them bring in brief extracts 
from these authors — a striking sentence in prose, or a line or stanza 
of poetry — selecting judiciously — and recite them in class, letting 
the class recognize the author, either from memory of the lines 
quoted or from a knowledge of the general style of the writer. 
They should also know from what work the lines are extracted, 
and all that it is possible to know about them. Encourage pupils 
to make their own criticisms of an author^ s style. 

In the first conception of this volume, the intention was to give 
more copious illustrations of the literature of each period; but the 
present limits of the work precluding this, if I have succeeded, by 
giving a taste, to cause the student to wish for more, and to send 
him to the author's own works, and not to text-books about them, 
one aim has been accomplished. 

Esther J. Trimble Lippincott. 

Philadelphia, Nov. 27, 1882. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I.— First Period of English History and 

Literature 9 

II. — Transition Period 25 

III. — The Age of Chaucer 41 

IV. — Revival of Learning 84 

v.— The Elizabethan Period 70 

VI.— The Puritan Age 125 

VII.— The Restoration 158 

VIII.— The Augustan Age 178 

IX.— The Age of Dr. Johnson 207 

X. — ^The Age of Burns and Cowper 254 

XI.— The Age of Seott and Byron 273 

XII.— The Lake Poets 310 

XIII. — The Victorian Age 345 

XIV. — American Literature. The Colonial 

Period 388 

XV.— The Revolutionary Period 397 

XVI.— The Age of Irving 413 

XVIL— The Age of Emerson 445 

vii 



A Chart 



OF THE 



ARYAN FAMILY OF LANGUAGES. 



- Indic 



Iranic 



Celtic 



Hellenic 



Sanscrit and other 
languages of India. 

Zend and other languages 
of Iran and Persia. 



Cymric 
Gaelic 



Welsh, Breton, 
Cornish. 

Highland Scotch, 
Irish, Manx. 



Ancient and 
Modern Greek. 



Romanic \ Italian, French, 

I Spanish, Portuguese, etc. 



NIC I 



Sclavonic 



Teutonic ■ 



Russian, Polish, 
Bohemian, Bulgarian, etc. 



Scandinavian 



Germanic 



Icelandic, Norwegian, 
Swedish, Danish. 

High German | German. 

^ f Dutch, 

I Low German ^ Flemish, 
i English. 



A 

HISTOHY 

OF 

English Literature. 

CHAPTER I. 

First Period of English History and Literature. 
Origin of the Enghsh Language. 

Introductory. 

LITEEATURE is the recorded expression of knowledge and 
fancy. In its widest sense, it includes all the written 
thoughts of mankind ; in its more restricted sense, it excludes 
all technical works and embraces only those departments of 
thought in which all mankind have a common interest. The 
study of literature, therefore, implies the study of the works of 
poets, dramatists, novelists, philosophers, theologians, histori- 
ans, essayists, and critics. 

A history of literature consists of a chronological, systematic 
review of the literary productions of a nation, with the causes 
which mould the thoughts, feelings, and expressions of each suc- 
cessive period of time. 

The history of English literature begins in the seventh cen- 
tury after Christ. The history of the English language begins 
ages before the Christian era, when our ancestors tilled their 
lands and fed their flocks in the heart of Asia. 

9 



10 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The English language, a branch of the Teutonic, is one of 
the numerous offsprings of the great Aryan family, whose de- 
scendants reach from India in the east to the remotest portions 
of Europe in the west.* India, Persia, and the borders of the 
Caspian and Aral Seas formed the original seat of the Aryan 
race, and from this oriental home the tidal wave of immi- 
gration began ; but what were the countless causes to create 
out of the common parent language all the various tongues of 
the Aryan family, we must leave to the philologist, remember- 
ing that languages flourish or decay in proportion as they are 
well or carelessly used. 

We can gain an idea of the verbal changes that centuries may produce, 
when we notice the changes in our own language. In the speech of 
the old-fashioned, we hear the faint echoes of a departing language. 
The possessive its was not in use until the latter part of the seventeenth 
century. It seldom occurs in the earliest editions of Shakespeare, not once 
in the Bible, translated in 1611, and is rarely used by Milton. He says : 

" His form had yet not lost 
All her original brightness." 

The pronunciation and signification of words likewise undergo changes. 
The word let, which now means permit, once signified hinder, 

" I will let that hunting gif^ that I may. "J 
I will hinder that hunting r/'that I may. 

So, likewise, the word prevent has lost its original meaning of anticipate. 
We find : 

" Mine eyes prevent the night watches, that I might meditate in thy word." § 

The regeneration of a language or its decay depends upon the influences 
brought to bear upon it. If the speech of the educated prevail, the lan- 
guage will grow in strength and symmetry. In no way is corruption or 
decay more hastened than by the dropping of consonant sounds in words. 
In the course of time the English language, if learned from the uneducated 
or careless, and by the ear alone, would contain such words as chile," 
" mounh'n," " weel," instead of child, mountain, wheel. 

The seven great branches of the Aryan family are : 1. The 
Indie, or the language of India (its most ancient form the San- 



* From the names of these two extremities the Aryan language is sometimes called 
Indo-European. It is also called Indo-Germanic, because the German or Teutonic 
element forms so large a portion of the family. 

t Gif was the old form of if. 

t From the Ballad of C?ievy Chase. g Psalm cxix. 148. 



FIRST PERIOD OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



11 



scrit) ; 2. The Iranic, or language of Persia ; 3. The Hellenic, 
or Greek; 4. Italic, or Latin; 5. Teutonic, or Germanic; 
6. Celtic, or Irish, Welsh, and Scotch ; 7. Sclavonic, or the lan- 
guage of Eussia, Poland, etc. 

We need go no farther back in time than the first century 
before Christ, to find our ancestors resting, in their journey 
westward, on the banks of the Black Sea,* occupying a dis- 
trict east of the river Don or Tanais, as it was then called. 
The great leader of these people was Odinf or Woden. This 
home of Odin and his people, on the banks of the Tanais 
or Don, was called Asgard or Godheim, the home of the 
Gods or Aesir people. But Odin, it is said, dreamed that 
far to the west or north-west he should find a home for his 
people J— a Manheim. So again this great "seething peo- 
ple " take up their westward or north-westward course, and 
reach the shores of the Baltic and Korth Seas. They passed 
through the low-lying country of Saxe-land, immediately north 
of the Elbe feiver, and made settlements, over which the sons 
of Odin ruled. Angle-land lay just north of Saxe-land, and 
here Odin established his son Baldur, " the beautiful." Others 
of the tribe passed on to Jute-land, immediately north of Angle- 
land, and corresponding to the present Jutland, as Angle-land 
corresponds to Schleswig, and Saxe-land to Holstein. Odin 
himself crossed over to the land of the Teutons, and established 
there his capital, Odens-oe§ (Odin's Isand), still the capital of 



* It will give increased interest to the subject to follow with a geographical map the 
migratory footsteps of these early ancestors. 

f There was probably a historic Odin, as well as the mythological deity Odin, the 
latter corresponding to the Zeus, or Jupiter, of the Greeks and Romans. In all these 
accounts we have to sift history from mythology, but the student has probably dis- 
covered that one of the most important lessons in life is to learn to extract the true 
from the false, the wheat from the chaff. 

% In the first century b. c. they were disturbed by the encroachments of the then 
all-conquering Eoman. 

§ From this abode Odin sent envoys across the sound into Gothland or Sweden, 
and on arriving they transformed some of the giants (jotuns, a name signifying 
rudeness) into reindeer, and with them ploughed off a piece of land nearest 
Odins-6e. As it floated off they called it Selund (Zealand). Odin soon passed over 
into Sweden, and fixed his abode and temples for sacrifice near the present capital, 
Stockholm. Upsala and other towns of Sweden are also said to have been established 
by this great leader. 



12 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



the island of Funen, and known as Odense.* And now in 
their sea-girt home, we will leave the sons of Odin for a time, 
and trace the parallel course of another great leader. 

Before the middle of the first century before Christ, near tUe 
time that Odin and his people began their north-westward 
journey, Julius Caesar made his march of conquest through 
Gaul, and, crossing the channel, entered Britain. This was 
in 55 B. c, and with this event the authentic history of Eng- 
land begins. 

The inhabitants of Britain were Celts (Kelts), who had mi- 
grated to this western home long before the great Gothic or 
Teutonic nation had left the common parent home in the east. 
Caesar did not take actual possession of the country, and it was 
not made a Eoman province for nearly a hundred years after 
his invasion. The Eomans were never able to conquer the 
whole of Britain. The wild, untamable Picts in the north of 
the island, with their allies, the Scots, from Ireland, kept their 
strongholds among the mountains. But when, in the fifth cen- 
tury, the Roman troops were recalled to Italy, to help defend 
her from the invading Goths, the warlike Scots and Picts left 
their Highland fastnesses and poured down in lawless numbers 
upon their defenceless kinsmen. 

Long dependence on Eoman arms had enfeebled the south- 
ern Britons. Alone they were unable to defend themselves 
against their powerful northern foes. So with no hope of the 
Eomans' return, they sent for aid to the English people, whom 
-we left five hundred years before in Angle-land, Saxe-land, and 
Jutland. They needed no second invitation. Indeed, they 
knew the island of Britain, for they had become great sea- 
rovers, and had visited many shores. So they came, in 449, 
with two brothers, Hengist and Horsa, as leaders. They 
drove back the savage Scots and Picts ; and, liking the coun- 
try well, decided to conquer the southern Britons too, and 
plant their own nation there. The Britons had not looked for 
this, and stoutly they resisted. King Arthur, the semi-fabu- 
lous hero of the Celtic nation, with whose deeds romance is 
filled, is supposed to have lived about this time, and to have 
contended with great prowess against the invading Saxon. But 



* The historic date of the founding of this city by Odin is 70 B. c. 



FIRST PERIOD OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



13 



the weaker Celt, like the aboriginal Indian of America, was 
driven to the wall. Wales, Cornwall, and Brittany became the 
refuge of the overpowered race of Britons. Here they treas- 
ured their traditions, their laws, and their religion ; and here, 
from generation to generation, were told the stories of Arthur 
and his beautiful queen, Guenevere; and the exploits of the 
daring Knights of the Round Table ; and here six hundred 
years afterwards, in the twelfth century, these stories found 
the light in the chronicles of Geoffrey of Monmouth.* 

Thus exiling themselves in the remotest corners of the king- 
dom which they had once occupied with undisputed sway, their 
numbers and force became less and less ; and to-day, the once 
warlike Celtic race of which Arthur, Sir Launcelot, and Gala- 
had were fairest types, can be found only in the wildest parts 
of Ireland, the Highlands of Scotland, in the Isle of Man, in 
Wales and Cornwall, and in friendly Brittany. 

The language of the Celts is nearly extinguished. Like 
that of the American Indian, it is represented in the English 
language only in the names of places once their own. The 
rivers especially retain the names given them by those who 
first wandered on their banks. Avon meant, in Celtic language, 
"running water." Owse, Eske^ Usk, and Ux are all, like- 
wise, modifications of the Celtic word msc, "water." The 
syllable don, with which many names end, is the Celtic dun, 
"a fortified rock." Likewise the Octer, which is found at 
the beginning of Welsh names, means "rock" or "stone." 
The Kil, beginning so many names in Ireland, signifies a 
"forest." Among the very few common words derived from 
the Celtic are hasket, button, dan, claymore, crag, funnel, gruel, 
etc. Out of forty thousand words now in use, not one hundred 
are directly derived from this fast-dying language. 

Eeturning to the new possessors of the land, the English, we 
find them a " race of land-holders and land-tillers," loving free- 
dom above all things. Their manners are heartfelt, and they 
are as earnest in frolic as in feud. Their hospitable doors 
stand open, and round their ruddy fires they tell the stories of 
their Saxon homes ; and perhaps their Scalds, or Bards, recite 



2 



* See page 32. 



14 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



portions of a poem about a great Gothic hero, Beowulf, whose 
deeds were in every mouth ; or their Saga-men tell of Odin, 
the Alfathir, and Thor, the thunderer, of Tiw, the God of 
War, and Fria, the fruitful goddess. 

But the old traditions and beliefs were soon to be replaced by 
the Christian religion ; and although our forefathers still cher- 
ished secretly the love and memory of their old heathen deities, 
the names of Woden, of Thor, of Fria, and Tiw are preserved 
only in the days of the week, — Woden's-day, Thor's-day, 
Fria's-day, and Tiw's-day. 

In the year 597 these Angles and Saxons were formally con- 
verted to Christianity by Augustine and his followers, who had 
been sent thither from Rome, for that purpose, by Pope Gregory. 
But the pagan traditions of the Gothic race did not perish.* 
They were carried by the Northmen into Iceland, and' there 
cherished, as the Celtic legends of Arthur had been in Wales 
and Brittany ; and, like the Celtic legends, they were restored to 
literature in the twelfth century. 

The Saxons, for so we are accustomed to call the early Eng- 
lish, comprising the Saxons, Angles, and Jutes, were now firmly 
established in the island, and the name of England was adopted 
soon after by these Englisc folc,^^ as they called themselves. 
Many Saxon kings reigned, but one was truly great. Alfred, 
the wise, good, and powerful king, united in himself all the 
qualities which fitted him to be the Father of his country, and 
to bear the title of the " Great." His reign (871-901) was dis- 
turbed by the Danes, who were nearly allied to the Anglo- 
Saxons. They inhabited the country which the Englisc /o?c" 
had left, but they were troublesome, piratical neighbors. After 
many attempts to secure the English throne, they at last suc- 
ceeded, and from 1017 until 1041 a Danish line of kings ruled 
England. Being so closely allied to the English there was little 
change occasioned in the language. In 1041 the Anglo-Saxons 
conquered the Danes, and resuming their sway ruled England 
until the nation was conquered by the Normans in 1066. 

The Normans were likewise related to the Anglo-Saxons ; for 



* The traditions of the Goths, together with the discourses of Odin and the story 
of his life, were preserved in the two Eddas, the sacred and historic books of the 
Northmen. 



FIRST PERIOD OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



15 



when, in the fifth century, the Saxons invaded and took posses- 
sion of England, the Franks, another German tribe, possessed 
themselves of Gaul. In the ninth and tenth centuries, when 
the Danes were plundering the coast of England, tribes of the 
same people, called Northmen, Norsemen, or Normans, invaded 
northern France and established the dukedom of Normandy. 
Adopting the language of the conquered people, they formed the 
Norman-French language. The original people of Gaul, like 
those of Britain, had been Celts. Conquered by the Eomans, 
they had learned by ear to speak the Eoman language, and 
more readily than the C^lts of Britain adopted it as their own. 
So, before the Gothic invasion of Gaul, the language of that 
nation was a corrupt Latin or Eomance dialect.* 

It will be seen that northern France, having a double infusion 
of the Gothic element, from the last Norman invaders, was 
more nearly allied to the Anglo-Saxon race than southern 
France (Provenge,) which retained its Romance character. So 
entirely distinct, indeed, were the languages of Normandy and 
Provenge, that one was called Langue cVoid and the other Langue 
cVoc; that is, the sounds of the same words were so different 
that yes in Normandy was oui, and in Provence it was oc. 

The Literature of England. 

Poetry, or rude numbers, has been the first form of expression 
in the literature of every nation, and usually we find that sen- 
timents of religion are earliest embodied in written language. 
The Celts had a literature of their own, quite distinct from any 
that followed. Their Druid bards composed the religious hymns 
and the war-songs of the nation, f 



* The Romance languages of Southern Europe — of Italy, France, Spain, and Portu- 
gal—are merely a corrupt form of Latin, or Latin learned by the ear from the Roman 
soldiers as they passed through these countries or dwelt with these Celtic nations. 

t The Druids were a class of people held in sacred esteem by the Celts of Gaul and 
Britain. They had unlimited authority in religion and in affairs of government. 
They were likewise teachers of the young. Their instructions were conveyed in 
verse, and it required twenty years of study to become conversant with the circle 
of the sciences they taught. 

The religious ceremonies of the Druids presented two extreme phases, one typical 
of innocence and purity and one horrible in the extreme. They worshipped in the 
groves and forests, and the oak was their sacred tree. When the mistletoe was found 
upon it, which was regarded with especial reverence by the Druids, they made a 



16 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The earliest Celtic poets whose names are recorded in history- 
are OssiAN, Merlin, and Taliesin. Ossian probably lived 
in the third century, and Merlin and Taliesin in the mythical 
period of Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. 

Ireland, with its ancient traditions extending so far back into 
the regions of time as to startle the curious scholar, was one 
of the earliest seats of learningc The poet, with his stalf of 
office, the historian, whose calling was transmitted from gener- 
ation to generation, were recognized powers in the government 
of Ireland as early as the third century. 

Christianity was introduced into Preland before the great 
Saint Patrick's time, as it was really introduced into England 
at a very much earlier date than that of Augustine's mission. 
When, in the early centuries of the Dark Ages, learning was 
exiled from Southern Europe, it took refuge in the monasteries 
of Ireland. The English people went over to this island for 
study and retirement, and were gratuitously supplied with 
everything pertaining to instruction. The Irish sent their 
learned men abroad as missionaries. Saint Columba (520- 
597) carried the Christian religion to Scotland and the Hebrides, 
and founded the celebrated monastery of lona. Saint Colum- 
BANUS (540-615) visited the continent and founded monasteries 
in various places. Here the monks, in careful Latin, copied 
and preserved the ancient manuscripts of the church and of 
classic writers, so that the monasteries became the conserva- 
tories of learning. 



banquet beneath the limb on which it grew, and, crowning themselves with oak- 
leaves, performed their sacred rites. Then the Druid priest, clothed in a white robe, 
ascended the tree, and with a golden knife cut off the mistletoe,— the " all-heal,"— 
and sacrifice and feasting followed. But these simple, innocent ceremonies did not 
prevent those of the most cruel nature, and yearly a human sacrifice was offered. 
The Roman invasion extinguished this barbarous rite, and soon the Druidic power 
declined. The island of Anglesea (Mona) was the last refuge of the Druids. Their 
cromlechs, or rude structures of unhewn stone, which may have been reared as altars 
or as memorial tablets, are still to be found in Wales, Scotland, and Brittany, while 
that of Stonehenge, near Salisbury, in England, is the most celebrated. 



ANGLO-SAXON PERIOD. 



17 



Anglo-Saxon Period. 

450—1154:. 

When the " Englisc folc " came over, they brought with them 
their great epic poem Beowulf — whether as an entire poem or as 
different sagas, recited and sung by Sagamen and Scalds, is not 
clearly ascertained. The author is unknown, but he has vividly 
portrayed to us the life and manners of our rude ancestors. We 
see the "mead-hall" where hospitality was dispensed to the 
" table-sharers," " hearth-enjoyers " of the chief. We hear the 
heartfelt welcome as the " hand-gripe " is given to the " sword- 
wielders," and " far-dwellers " who have come to them over the 
" wave-path." 

The scenes in the story of Beoioulf are laid in Denmark and 
Sweden (Gothland). The hero, Beowulf, is a Goth, who, hear- 
ing of the distress of Hrothgar, King of Denmark, owing to 
the nightly ravages of a monster named Grendel, goes with a 
company of fifteen warriors to rid the Danish lord of his 
dreaded foe. 



t'a waes on salum 


Then was rejoiced 


sinces brytta, 


. the distributor of treasure, 


gamol-feax and gu'S-rof, 


hoar-lock' d and far-famed, 


geoce gelyfde 


trusted in succour 


brego beorht-Dena : 


the bright Danes' lord, 


gehyrde on Beowulfe 


in Beowulf heard 


folces hyrde 


the people's shepherd 


faestraedne ge>6ht. 


steadfast resolve. 


■^aer waes haelel>a hleahtor 


There was laughter of men 


hlyn suynsode, 


the din resounded, 


word waeron wynsume, 


words were winsome, 


eode Wealhtheow fop's 


Wealhtheow went forth, 


cwen Hro'Sgares 


Hrothgar's queen ; 


cynna gemyndig, 


mindful of their races, 


grette gold-hroden 


the gold-adorned one greeted 


guman on healle 


the men in hall, 


and l>a freohc wife 


and then the joyous woman 


ful gesealde 


gave the cup 


aerst East-Dena 


first to the East-Danes' 


e^el-wearde 


country's guardian ; 



2* B 



18 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



baed hine bli'Sne (beon) 
aet >aere be6r->ege, 
leodum leofne. 



bade him (be) blithe 
at the beer drinking, 
the dear to his people. 



After the feasting is over, the king and his household retire, 
and Beowulf awaits the coming of the nightly visitant. 



After a long contest Beowulf kills the monster, and, receiving 
rich gifts from Hrothgar, returns to his own country — the land 
of the East Goths. In due season he becomes king of this 
country, and his last warlike encounter is with a fiery dragon 
that infests his own domain. Beowulf kills the dragon, but 
dies from venom received in the conflict. 

The story of Beowulf was wholly Gothic in its original con- 
ception, and the few interpolations giving the tone of the 
later religion, were probably made by some monk of the seventh 
century. It is impossible to fix the date of the composition of 
this old Pagan story. It must simply stand as the first known 
poem in our language, or indeed in any Teutonic language. 

In the seventh century lived the first English poet, Caedmon 
( — 680). Little dreaming that he possessed within himself the 
divine gift of song, this poet's life, until he was past middle 
age, was spent as a simple cowherd, a calling more humble 
even than that of a shepherd. 

We first see him seated in one of the "mead-halls" of the 
great, where song and mirth are resounding, and stories of 
great deeds, perhaps those of Beowulf, are told. It was the 
custom of an evening, especially on an occasion of festivity, 
for all, regardless of rank, to assemble in the hall, and each to 
take his turn to sing, accompanying his song with the harp. 
One evening, as the stories went round, and song and revelry 



■^a com of more 
under mist-hleoj'um 
Grendel gongan ; 



Then came from the moor 
under the misty hills 
Grendel stalking ; 



Wod under wolcnum 
to Jjaes be he win-reced 
gold-sele gumena 
gearwost wisse 
faettum fahne. 



He strode under the clouds 
until he the wine-house, 
the golden hall of men, 
most readily perceived 
richly variegated. 



ANGLO-SAXON PERIOD. 



19 



grew louder, Caedmon saw that his turn was approaching, and, 
ashamed of his inability to compose a song, he left the hall, and 
went out and lay down by his herds in the stable. There he 
fell asleep, and dreamed that an angel came to him and said, 
"Caedmon, sing ! " Caedmon said, "I cannot ; for that reason 
I left the hall." ^Nay, but thou canst sing," persisted the 
angel, "and sing, now, the Song of Creation." Whereupon, 
the story goes, Caedmon opened his lips and sang such strains 
as he had never heard before. And when he awoke, he not 
only could recall the verses of his sleep, but went on making 
others. Near at hand was the celebrated monastery of Whitby, 
over which the Abbess Hilda presided. To her Caedmon went, 
and repeated his poem and the occurrences of the preceding 
night. Not daring to trust to this single evidence of his power, 
Hilda caused several stories from the Bible to be told to Caed- 
mon, and then she requested him to go home and turn them 
into verse. This he did, and so delighted was the Abbess 
Hilda and the learned monks of the monastery, that they 
persuaded the poor cowherd to give up his occupation and 
enter the cloister as a monk. 

Caedmon 's poems are all on religious subjects, and are mostly 
paraphrases of the Scripture. His Fall of Man might be termed 
the framework of Paradise Lost, while his "Satan " seems to be 
the very archetype of Milton's " Apostate Angel." In his re- 
bellious pride he says : 

" What shall I for his favor serve ? " Who will not fail me in the strife, 
Bend to him in such vassalage? Heroes stern of mood 
I may be a God as he. They have chosen me for chief. 

Stand by me strong associates Renowned warriors ! " 

Caedmon, and the unknown author of Beowulf.^ are the two 
great poets of the Anglo-Saxon period ; but there were a few 
others of less note, whose names deserve to be mentioned. 
There was Aldhelm (656-709), the pious monk, who, in minstrel 
garb, sang his songs on the highways, to incite men to a holier, 
purer life. Cynewulf, another Anglo-Saxon poet, whose date 
is uncertain, wrote several long poems on religious subjects. 

Many old Anglo-Saxon poems have been preserved in two 
different collections, called, from the places in which they were 
found, the Exeter Book, and the VercelU Book, 



20 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



A celebrated song of the eleventh century is the Canute Song^ 
supposed to have been sung by King Canute, the Dane, as he 
was rowing with his knights past the monastery of Ely : 

Merle sungen the muneches binnen Merry sung the monks that were in 



And here we thes muneches saeng. And hear we these monks' song. 



All the learned works of this time were written in Latin, so 
but little prose was contributed to the early English literature. 
The Yenerable Bede (673-735) produced many scholarl}^ 
works in Latin, principal of which was his Ecclesiastical His- 
tory. This being a history of the English Church, was like- 
wise a history of England. Bede left, in English, an interesting 
Life of Caedmon. He died just as the last sentence of his last 
work was written— a translation into English of the Gospel of 
St. John. His friend and disciple, Cuthbert, was writing at 
his master's dictation, and when the last sentence was ended, 

" It is well," cried the venerable Bede, sitting upright on the floor of his 
cell, " you have said the truth ; it is ended. Receive my head into your 
hands, for it is a great satisfaction to me to sit facing my holy place, where 
I was wont to pray, that I may also, sitting, call upon my Father." " And 
so," says the chronicler, " singing ' Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, 
and to the Holy Ghost,' when he had named the Holy Spirit he breathed 
his last, and so departed into the heavenly kingdom." 

The philosophy and theology of this time were represented 
by Alcuin (735-804) and Joannes Scotus (Erigena) ( — 875). 
Joannes Scotus was an Irish monk, and the most profound 
philosopher of that age. Aelfkic ( — 1006) wrote a series 
of Homilies and an English and Latin Dictionary. He trans- 
lated into English the Pentateuch and the Booh of Job, the 
greatest portion of the Bible that had as yet been translated. 

But it is to the good and great king Alfred (848-901) that 
early English prose is indebted. This excellent king lived for 
his people and his country. That the English language might 
be cultivated, he took upon himself the labor of translating 
and of teaching his people. The most popular works in 



Ely, 

The Cnut cyning rew therby. 
Roweth cnihtes noer the lant, 



Ely 

"When Canute king rowed thereby. 
Row, knights, near the land, 



Prose Writers. 



PROSE WRITERS. 



21 



Latin he translated for their use, Bedels History^ Pope Gregory^ s 
Pastoral Bide, and the works of two of the writers of Kome 
nearest his own time, Orosius'' History, and Boethius^ Consola- 
tions of Philosophy. He employed scholars from abroad to help 
him in his great work of educating the people. . He estab- 
lished schools and monasteries, "where every free-born youth, 
who has the means, shall abide at his book till he can well 
understand English. ' ' 

At the instigation of this wise ruler the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle 
was commenced. It was the work of different compilers in 
Alfred's time, and after his death was continued until 1154. It 
is a dry collection of the most important events in each year, 
beginning with the Roman invasion, 55 b. c. Sometimes one 
line conveys all that the chronicler deemed necessary for the 
history of a year ; as, 

" 509 A. D. This year St. Benedict, the Abbot, father of all monkSj 
went to heaven." 

The last portions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle show some 
little variation in the use of the language, so that the termi- 
nation of this work in 1154 marks the close of the First English 
or Anglo-Saxon Period. 

Illustrations of the Literature of the First English 
or Anglo-Saxon Period. 
4:50—1150, 

From Beowulf. 

Tha com of mor 
under mist-hleothum 
Grendel gongan. 

From Caedmon's Song of Creation. 

Nu we sceolan herian. Now we shall praise 

heofon-rices weard, the guardian of heaven, 

metodes mihte, the maker's might, 

and his mod-gethonc, and his mind's thought, 

wera wuldor-fader ! the gloiy-father of men ! 

swa he wundra gehwaes, how he of all wonders, 

ece dryhten, the eternal lord, 

ord onstealde. formed the beginning. 



22 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



He aerst gesceop 
ylda bearnum 
heofoa to hrofe, 
halig scyppend ! 
tha middan-geard, 
mon-cynnes weard 
ece dryhten, 
aefter teode, 
firum foldan, 
frea aelmihtig ! 



He erst created 

for earth's children 

heaven as a roof, 

the holy creator ! 

then this mid-world, 

the guardian of mankind, 

the eternal lord, 

produced afterwards 

the earth for men, 

the almighty master ! 



From Alfred. Preface to his Translation of Boethius. 



Aelfred kuning waes wealhstod 
thisse bee and hie of bee Ledene 
on Englisc wende swa hio nu is 
gedon. Whilum he sette worde be 
worde, hwilum andgit of andgite, 
swa swa he hit tha sweotolost and 
andgitfullicost gereccan mihte, for 
thaem mistlicum and manigfealdum 
weoruld bisgum the hine oft aegper 
ge on mode ge on lichoman bisgo- 
dan. Tha bisgu us sint swithe ear- 
forth rime the on his dagum on tha 
ricu becomon the he underfangen 
haefde, and theah tha he thas boc 
haefde geleornode, and of Laedne 
to Engliscum spelle gewende tha 
geworhte he hi efter to leothe swa 
swa lieo nu gedon is, and nu bit and 
for Godes naman healsath aelcne 
thara the thas boc raedan lyste tha 
he for hine gebidde and him ne "wite 
gif he hit rihtlicor ongite thonne 
he mihte forthaemde aelc mon sceal 
be his andgites maethe and be his 
aemettan sprecan thaet he sprecth, 
and don thaet thaet he deth. 



Alfred king was translator (of) 
this book and he (it) from book- 
latin into English turned as it now 
is done. Whiles he set word by 
word, whiles sense for sense just as 
he it the clearest and fullest of 
sense speak might for the distract- 
ing and manifold world business 
(which) him oft both in mind 
(and) in body busied. The busi- 
nesses to us are very hard to count 
which in his days on those king- 
doms came that he undertaken 
had, and yet when he this book 
had learned and from Latin into 
English speech turned (it) then 
wrought he it afterwards to (a) lay 
so as it now done is, and now prays 
and for God's name implores each 
(of) them that this book to read 
lists, that he for him pray and him 
not blame if he it rightlier under- 
stand than he might ; for that each 
man should by his understanding 
measure and by his leisure speak 
that he speaketh, and do that he 
doeth. 



449 



Erom the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. 
D. Her Martianus] Ualentinus onfengon rice.] rixadon VII 



winter.] on heora dagum gela'Sode Wyrtgeorn Angelcin hider.] hi 



LITERATURE OF THE ANGLO-SAXON PERIOD, 23 



ba comon on ]>rim ceolum hider to Brytene on t-am stede Heopwines 
fieot. 

449 A. D. In this year Marcian and Valentinian succeeded to the 
empire and reigned seven winters, and in their day Vortigern invited the 
Anglo race hither, and they then came in their ships hither to Britain 
at the place named Heopwines fleot. King Vortigern gave them land in 
the south-east of this land on condition that they should fight against the 
Picts. They then fought against the Picts, and had victory whitherso- 
ever they came. They then sent to the Angles ; bade them send greater 
aid ; bade them be told of the worthlessness of the Brito- Welsh, and the 
excellence of the land. They then forthwith sent hither a larger army 
in aid of the others. Then came men from three tribes of Germany : 
from the Old-Saxons, from the Angles, and from the Jutes. From the 
Jutes came the Kentish people and the people of Wight, that is, the 
tribe which now dwells in Wight, and the race among the West-Saxons, 
which is yet called the Jute race. From the Old-Saxons came the East- 
Saxons and South-Saxons and West-Saxons. From Angeln — which has 
ever since stood waste betwixt the Jutes and Saxons — came the East- 
Anglians, the Middle-Anglians, the Mercians, and all the Northum- 
brians. Their leaders were two brothers, Hengist and Horsa. They 
were sons of Wihtgils. Wihtgils was son of Witta, Witta of Wecta, 
Wecta of Woden. From Woden sprang all our royal kin, and the 
Southumbrians also. 

Syllabus. 

Literature is the recorded expression of knowledge and fancy. 

A history of literature is a chronological review of the literary produc- 
tions of a nation. 

The history of English literature begins in the seventh century. 

The history of the English language begins with the remotest history of 
the Aryan race. 

The seven great branches of the Aryan family are the Indie, Persic, 
Greek, Latin, Teutonie, Celtie, and Sclavonic. 
The English is a Teutonic or Germanic language. 
The Goths migrated from the Danube to the Baltic Sea. 
Odin was the great Gothic leader. 

Caesar marched through Italy and Gaul in a parallel direction. 
Caesar invaded Britain 55 B. c. 

The Celts were the first known inhabitants of Britain. 
Britain was held as a Roman province and a military outpost of Eome 
for about four hundred years. 



24 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



In 411 the Eomans were recalled to defend Italy from the Goths, who 
were then ravaging Southern Europe. 

The Scots and Picts, the unconquered Celts of the North, took advantage 
of the absence of disciplined military force, and overran Southern Britain. 

The helpless Britons implored the aid of the " Englisc folc " from Angle- 
land, Saxe-land, and Jute-land. 

In 449 Hengist and Horsa came and drove back the Celts, but took pos- 
session of the island of Britain themselves. 

King Arthur opposed the Saxon invaders. 

The Celtic tongue is barely represented in the English language. 

The Gothic race firmly established themselves, their customs, and their 
language in Britain, and called the island England. 

They worshipped Odin, or Woden, the Al-father, Thor, the Thunderer, 
and all the Pagan deities of the ancestral Goth. 

In 597 Pope Gregory sent Augustine from Eome to convert these people 
to Christianity. 

Alfred established wise measures of government. 

The Danes invaded Britain and Danish kings rule from 1017 to 1041. 

The language was not changed by the Danes. 

The Norman conquest occurred in 1066. 

Poetry has usually been the first form of a nation's literature. 

The Druids were the first poets in Britain. 

The three great Celtic poets were Ossian, Merlin, and Taliesin. 

Ireland was the seat of learning in the early centuries of the Dark Ages. 

The Eomans left no literature in Britain. 

The "Englisc folc" brought with them to Britain their songs and 
national legends. 
The Lay of Beowulf was the first English poem. 
Caedmon was the first English poet. 

The Venerable Bede, the first great writer of prose in England, wrote 
mainly in Latin. 

King Alfred was the father of English prose. The Anglo-Saxon 
Chronicle is a memorial of his labors. 

"With the closing of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle the first period of English 
literature ends. This period, 450-1150, is usually styled the Anglo-Saxon 
Period. 



^^^^ 



CHAPTER II. 



Transition Period. 

1150-1350. 

THE N'orraan Conquest did not produce immediate change 
in the language or manners of the EngUsh. The con- 
querors and conquered remained mutually repellent for more 
than a century and a half. Korman French had been adopted 
as the language of the court and higher circles, but Anglo- 
Saxon remained the language of the common people. 

The twelfth century marks the first perceptible change in the 
language, the merging of the Anglo-Saxon into the Se^ni-Saxon, 
called, a century later. Old EngUsh. The period embraced within 
the last half of the twelfth, the whole of the thirteenth, and 
the beginning of the fourteenth century, may be styled the 
Transition Period. 

The twelfth century is a notable landmark in the history of 
the English nation and literature. At this time we see the 
English character as well as the English language asserting 
itself. The stronger national feeling was about to express 
itself in the Magna Charta, and in the assembling of a 
House of Commons. 

In the period before us we see the effects of Feudahsm, which 
had divided the social community of Europe into distinct 
castes, one class subjugating the next in rank below, each 
exercising over the other the greatest despotism and cruelty. 
But as every oppressive measure, sooner or later, must react 
upon itself, so out of the injustice of Feudalism the generous 
spirit of chivalry arose. From chivalry came knighthood, and 
the knight, impelled by his love of justice, or adventure, or by 
3 25 



26 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, 



his vow which bound him " to succor the helpless and oppressed, 
to speak the truth, and never to turn back from an enemy," 
in the name of God and the ladj'^ of his choice, undertook deeds 
of the greatest peril. For every complaint made to the king 
of an injury received, a knight or a company of knights must 
be ready at the king's command, to start out to redress the 
wrong. 

The great sports of chivalry were the joust and tournament ; 
yet these mock combats sometimes required as much personal 
valor as the heroic deeds of adventure ; for often, a knight, if 
not mortally wounded, was seriously injured, and sometimes 
maimed for life. In these sports it was the ladies' approbation 
that was the great stimulus to heroic achievements. Every 
knight must be in love with some " fair lady," or imagine him- 
self to be so. To her alone he looked for approval, and from 
her received some "favor," to be worn upon his helmet.* At 
the close of the tournament the victor was crowned by the 
lady chosen as the most beautiful. All that a rude age could 
contrive of pomp and magnificence were displayed in these 
grand sports of chivalry. 

Kelieved of the necessity of labor, time unoccupied in battle 
hung heavily upon the hands of the feudal master, unless mirth 
and revelry filled up his vacant hours, and to this end games 
and minstrelsy, beside the grander sports of chivalry, were 
employed. In the hall or banqueting-room — the chief room of 
the manor — guests were freely entertained, each according to his 
social degree. On the dais, or raised platform, the table of the 
nobility was spread, while smaller tables were ranged round 
the rooms for those of less respect, until the long table came 
into use, and the salt was made the dividing line between high 
and low. Ko feast or festal occasion was ever complete with- 
out the presence of the minstrels, who frequently accompanied 
their songs with acting and mimicry. While the guests were 
feasting in the hall beggars were fed at the door, or bread f was 

* The "favor" might be a glove, a rose, a jewel, a sleeve, or any article of adorn- 
ment. Sometimes a page or squire would be sent to deliver the favor if the lady did 
not choose to give it with her own hand. 

t Bread was the chief article of food. The terms " lord " and " lady " meant loaf- 
keeper, from Ato/(loaf), and weorden (to ward) (hlafweard), (laverd) (lord). Hlajwear- 
dige (lady) is the feminine of the same word. 



TRANSITION PERIOD. 



27 



thrown to them from the tables in the hall as they shared with 
the dogs the bones that were thrown on the floor. 

The Crusades were an outgrowth of the spirit of chivalry. 
It had been customary from the earliest ages of the Church for 
Christians to take pilgrimages to Jerusalem or other hallowed 
places in Palestine. In the early part of the seventh century 
Jerusalem had been captured by the Turks, who treated with 
great insolence the humble pilgrims, as well as the Christians 
residing in the city. Peter the Hermit, of Prance, returning 
from a pilgrimage, recounted the sufferings of the Christians at 
Jerusalem, and, through his eloquence, the first Crusade was un- 
dertaken (1095). The Christians throughout Europe mustered 
to his cry of "Dews FwZt," ^ and hastened to Jerusalem to rescue 
from the hands of the "Infidels," through fire and bloodshed, 
the sacred tomb of the Prince of Peace ! The Crusaders opened 
up a communication between the east and the west. Minstrels, 
accompanying their masters to the Holy Wars, borrowed of 
each other songs and tales of romantic adventure. 

In England, as in every other country, wandering bards or 
minstrels were common from the earliest times. By the Celts 
they were called Bards ; by the Goths, Scalds ; by the Anglo- 
Saxons, Harpers, Gleemen, and Bhymers. They did not receive 
the name of Minstrel until after the Norman Conquest. To 
the accompaniment of a harp, these rude poets sang their 
songs of chivalry, or recited to enchanted listeners their Gests, 
as these romantic stories were sometimes called. 

The I^orman Conquest was not without its good results, and 
Prance, in the twelfth century, became the source of English 
culture. The schools of Paris were resorted to by the sons of 
the nobility from all parts of Europe. No building in Paris, it 
is said, could contain the crowds of Abelard's pupils. England 
borrowed of Prance, not only intellectual improvements, but 
social and domestic refinement. Houses were still thatched 
with straw, but windows and chimneys were introduced, and 
parlors were added to the former hall or room for general 
assembling. Seats were built into the masonry of the houses ; 
the "table dormant" replaced the movable board; and the 



* God wills it. 



28 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



furnishing of the table was a matter of greater importance 
than the fm'nishing of the house. On occasions of festivity 
the wall at the upper end of the dais was hung with tapestry, 
and the floor was strewn with rushes. '■^ Books of Courtesy'''* 
were circulated in this age, and habits of neatness enjoined. 



The literatures of Kormandy and Provence were as distinct 
as their languages. From Normandy came the Trouveres, the 
poets of Chivalry and Romance, from Provenqe came the Trou- 
badours, or Lyric poets. The Trouveres, it may readily be 
imagined, accompanied the Norman Conquerors into England, 
and there sang or recited their tales of Romance. 

In the Twelfth century a mine of wealth was opened to the 
literary world in Brittany, that stronghold of the ancient Brit- 
ons, when they fled from the rude Saxons. This was the dis- 
covery of the Legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Bound 
Table, which had been carefully preserved in this little district 
of France during the six centuries that had elapsed since the 
time of that hero, if, indeed, such a hero ever existed. These 
romances consist of The Holy Grail ; * The Story of Merlin, the 
Enchanter ; Launcelot of the Lalne; the Search for the Holy Grail; 
and the Death of Arthur. These have all been subdivided into 
numerous branches, and have formed themes for poets down 
to the present day. 

Three distinct subjects of Romance were popular through- 
out Europe at this time — Arthur, Alexander, and Charle- 
magne — and their adventures were sung by Troubadour, Trou- 
vere, and Minstrel. Other celebrated romances of chivalry of 
the Middle Ages are the Romance of Home Ghilde, or the Geste 
of King Home; The Bomance of Sir Guy; The Squire of Loio 
Degree; and the King of Tars {Tarsus). The romantic adven- 
tures of BoUn Hood, the bold outlaw who lived in the twelfth or 
thirteenth century, furnished subjects for innumerable ballads. 

Three literary works are extant which are especially prized 
by philologists as showing the transitional stage in the lan- 
guage. They are the works of Layamon, the Aj^cren" Riwle, 
and the Ormulum. They were written probably in the thir- 
teenth century. 



* The cup out of which Jesus partook at the Last Supper. 



TRANSITION PERIOD. 



29 



About 1205 Layamon, a priest of Ernley, wrote that 

" Hit com him on mode It came to him in mind, 

and on his megin thonke and in his main thought 

thet he wolde of Engle that he would of England 

tha aedhelaen tellen, the great deeds tell 

wat heo ihoten weoren what they were called, 

and wonen heo comen and whence they came 

tha Englene londe that English land 

aerst ahten first owned 

aefter than flode after the flood 

the from drihtene com that from God came 

the al her quelde that all here quelled (killed) (destroyed) 

quic that he funde." living that it found. 

Layaraon's work was a translation of a translation of the 
popular tradition of Britain, which had been cherished by the 
descendants of the old Britons in Wales and Brittany, concern- 
ing a Brutus, grandson of the Trojan ^neas, who, many cen- 
turies before the Christian era, had established his reign in 
Britain. This story was written in Latin by Geoffrey of 
Monmouth, one of the chroniclers of the twelfth century ; 
and from this Latin Chronicle, a Norman poet, "Wage, wrote a 
rhymed version in French, called Brut cVAngleterre. It is this 
poem retranslated by Layamon" into the spoken language of 
his time, and called Brut (Brutus), that forms one of the land- 
marks in the progress of the English language. 

The AisrCREN Kiwle {Anchoresses'' Bute) consists of a series 
of monastic instructions, written for the use of a company of 
anchoresses, three sisters, who, with their servants, established 
a nunnery at Dorsetshire. 

The Okmulum, written a few years later than the two pre- 
ceding, is a series of Homilies or Scriptural instructions in 
verse. The author announces himself at the beginning of his 
work, by stating that 

" Thiss hoc iss nemmned Orrmulum, 
Forthi thatt Orrm itt wrohhte." 

The doubling of the consonants after short vowel sounds was 
an eccentricity of spelling peculiar to Orm. There is no indi- 
cation of this method having been followed by others. It was 
an earnest effort on the part of the zealous Orm to fix, at least, 
the sound of the language of the people. 
3* 



30 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Rhyming Chroniclers and Other 
Poets. 

Layamon was the first of a series of rhyming chroniclers. 
Nearty a century after Layamon, Kobert of Gloucester 
wrote another rhymed history of England from the time of the 
mythical Brutus of Troy until the death of Henry III. He was 
followed, fifty years after, by Eobert Manxino, or Kobert 
DE Brtoxe, the last of the EHYMma Chroniclers. 

The first imaginative poem of purely English origin belongs, 
also, to the thirteenth centur3\ It is called The Owl and the 
Nightingale^ and represents these two birds as setting forth their 
respective claims to superiority as songsters. 

The first Scotch poet of whom we hear was Thomas of Er- 
CELDOUN^E, or Thomas the Ehymer (1250-1300), to whom 
was ascribed the gift of prophecy as well as of poesy. He sang 
the story of Sir Tristrem, one of the old British legends. 

As a poet, Walter Map, or Mape (1150 ), is best known 

by his Latin verses ; but the service he rendered to English 
literature was his arrangement of the popular romances of 
King Arthur. To these old tales he added a more spiritual 
significance, idealizing the ruder life depicted in. the originals. 
He wove into the series the story of the Holy Grail. 

Many imitations of the Arthurian stories arose. The most 
noted was that of Tristram and Isoud.* 

Later poets who serve as a sort of connecting link between 
this age and the next, were Eichard Eolle (1290-1348) and 
LAUREiSrCE MiKOT ( 1352). The former wrote a long re- 
ligious poem, entitled Tlie Pricke of Conscience. Minot wrote 
war songs, commemorating the victories of Edward III. over 
the Scotch and Erench. He was the first national song writer. 

In this period the germs of the English Drama are found in 
the old miracle play, St. Catharine^ written in French and 
played at Dunstable in 1119. The early plays were the devices 
of the clergy to impress upon the people the example of the 
lives of saints and the doctrines of the Church. Bible scenes 
were thus converted into dramatic representations.! 



* Written by Lucas de Gast. 



t See History of the Drama, page 77. 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 31 



The Philosophy of the Middle 
Ages. 

The Church and Chivalry were the two most powerful insti- 
tutions of the Middle Ages throughout Europe. Each left its 
impress on the meagre literature of the time, the former locked 
in a dead language, the latter revealed in tales of Eomance. 

Philosophy was represented by the Church, and was a phil- 
osophy of creeds and dogmas. The old spirit of inquiry which 
had died with the great philosophers of ancient Greece revived 
in Arabia more than a thousand years afterwards ; and while 
this Mohammedan country became the seat of scientific learn- 
ing, Christian Europe checked free inquiry and search into 
natural causes. 

KoGER Bacon (1214-1292), a Franciscan monk, stands as a 
bright light in the universal darkness of the thirteenth century. 
With the clear mind of the true philosopher searching into 
causes, he anticipated his great namesake, Francis Bacon, by 
more than three hundred years, foreshadowing in his Opus 
Majus^ Opus Minus^ and Opus Tertium some of the greatest 
truths taught by the philosopher of the sixteenth century. 
The " idols " of the latter seem almost suggested in the reasons 
assigned by Friar Bacon for human ignorance: — "Trust in 
inadequate authority, the force of custom, the opinion of the 
inexperienced crowd, and the hiding of one's own ignorance 
with the parading of a superficial wisdom." Eoger Bacon 
urged the study of nature by experiment, which he regarded 
as " the root of all other sciences and a basis of religion." He 
encouraged the reading of the Bible and the works of Aristotle 
in the originals, warning against errors arising from bad trans- 
lations. 

Egbert Grosseteste (1175-1253) was another Franciscan 
friar who endeavored to correct abuses and reform the Church. 
He was the teacher and intimate friend of Eoger Bacon, and 
was pronounced by the latter, "perfect in divine and human 
knowledge." 

Those who, after the Norman Conquest,.^epreseiited Scholasticism better 
than either Bacon or Grosseteste, were Lanfranc (1005-1089) ; Anselm 
(1033-1109) ; John of Salisbury ( 1182) ; Peter of Blois ( 



32 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



1198) ; Alexander Hales ( 1245) ; Joannes Duns Scotus ( 

1308) ; William of Occam (1300-1347). The last three were designated, 
respectively, the " Irrefragable Doctor," the " Subtle Doctor," the " Invin- 
cible Doctor." 

Latin Chroniclers, 

At the head of the list of Chroniclers of this era stands the 
name of Geoffrey of Monmouth ( 1154), notwithstand- 
ing the fact that his " Chronicles" were romances rather than 
history. They were the source from which successive chroni- 
clers drew, down to the time of Ehzabeth ; and they are to-day 
well-springs of romance and poetry. 

Geoffrey of Monmouth was of Welsh parentage, and with a 
warm love for the old Celtic stock he made out for the British 
nation a heroic line of ancestors, tracing them back through 
King Arthur and other illustrious Celtic heroes to a Brutus, 
great grandson of Aeneas ! In this chronicle we hear for the 
first time of Arthur and his Knights of the Bound Table. The 
scene of the first English tragedy, Ferrex and Porrex, is taken 
from this work, as is also the story of King Lear."^ 

However much this prince of chroniclers was followed and 
believed in by succeeding ages, the plodding, truth-abiding 
chroniclers of his own time were outraged by his romantic 
stories, set down for grave facts. They said : 

" That fabler with his fables shall be straightway spat out by us all, as 
in all things we trust Bede, whose wisdom and sincerity are beyond doubt." 

The other chroniclers of this time were William of Malmsbuey (1095- 
1143) ; Henry of Huntingdon (1154) ; Roger de Hoveden (1202) ; 
Matthew Paris ( 1259) ; Roger de Wendover ( 1237) ; Nich- 
olas Trivet (1258-1328) ; Ralph Higden ( 1370). 

As Latin was the tongue in which all the learned works were 
written, and Norman French was the language of the lighter 
songs and romances, and was also spoken by the higher circles, 
while English was the language of the people, it may readily 
be imagined that the close of this period would present a con- 

* Geoffrey of Monmouth's Latin history of the British kings was suggested by the 
finding in Brittany of an ancient manuscript in the Cymric tongue, purporting to 
be a history of Britain. 



LITERATURE OF THE TRANSITION PERIOD. 33 



fusion of tongues. Some of the literature of the time affords 
illustrations of the commingling of Latin, French, and English. 
The poem quoted on page 35 is an example. 



Illustrations of the Literature of the Transition 
Period. 



1150—1350. 



— o-o::©<00 

From Layamon's translation of Brut Angleterre. 



The time co the wes icoren ; 

tha wes Arthur iboren. 

Sone swa he com an eorthe 

aluen hine iuengen 

heo bigolan that child : 

mid galdere swithe stronge 

heo geue him mihte 

to beon bezst aire cnihten. 

heo geuen him an other thing 

that he scolde beon riche king. 

heo giueu hi that thridde ; 

that he scolde longe libben. 

heo gifen him that kine-bern 

custen swithe gode 

that he wes mete-custi 

of alle quikemonnen. 

this the alue him gef 

and al swa that child ithaeh. 



The time came that was chosen 

then was Arthur born. 

Soon as he came on earth 

elves took him : 

they enchanted the child 

with magic most strong. 

They gave him might 

to be the best of all knights. 

They gave him another thing, 

that he should be a rich king. 

They gave him the third, 

that he should live long. 

They gave to him — the king-born 

gifts most good, 

that he was most generous 

'of all men alive. 

This the elves gave him, 

and thus the child thrived. 



From the A 

Ye ne schulen eten vleschs ne 
seim buten ine muchele secknesse; 
other hwoso is euer feble eteth potage 
blitheliche : and wunieth ou to lute! 
drunch 

Sum ancre maketh hire bord mid 
hire gistes withuten. Thet is to 
much ureondschipe, uor, of alle 
ordres theonne is hit unkuindelukest 
and mest ayean ancre ordre thet 
is al dead to the worlde. 



icre7i Biwle. 

■ You shall not eat flesh nor lard 
except in much sickness ; or whoso 
is ever feeble may eat potage blithely; 
and accustom yourselves to little 

drink 

Some anchoressesmake their board 
with their friends, without. That 
is too much friendship, for of all 
orders then, is it most unnatural and 
most against anchoress's order, that 
is all dead to the world. 



34 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Ormulum. 



From the 

And siththenn o thatt yer thatt Christ 

Wass off twellf winnterr elde 

Theyy comenn inntill Jerrsalaem 

Att teyyre Passkemesse. 

& heldenn thaer thatt hallghe tid 

O thatt Judisskenn wise. 

& Jesu Crist wass thaer with hemm. 

Sua summ the Goddspell kitheth 
& affterr thatt the tid wass gan 
Theyy wenndeim fra the temmple 
& ferrden towarrd Nazaraeth. 
An dayys gang till efenn, 
& wenndenn thatt the Laferrd Crist 
With hemm thatt gate come, 
& he wass the behinndenn hemm 
Bilefedd att te temmple. 



The So7ig 
Sumer is i-cumen in ^ 

Lhude sing, euccu, 
Groweth sed, and bloweth med 
And springeth the wde nu, 

Sing cuccu, euccu. 
Awe bleteth after lomb, 
Llouth after calve cu, 
Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth, 

Murie sing, cuccu, 
Cuccu, cuccu. 

1 as if one were touching a shrill harp. 



And afterwards, in the year that j 
Christ j 
Was of twelve winters old j 
They come into Jerusalem i 
At their Passover, '| 
And held there that holy time ! 
In the Jewish wise. ^ 
And Jesus Christ was there with | 
them. 

So as the Gospel saith. i 
And after that the time was gone 
They wended from the temple. 
And fared towards Nazareth j 
A day's journey till evening, i 
And weened that the Lord Christ j 
With them that way came, ! 
And he was then behind them 
Kemaining at the temple. ! 

i 

i 

,1 

I 



I 



Extract from the Oicl and Nightingale. 
" The nightingale bi-gon the speche." 

« * * i;f * * * * 

Thos word agaf the nightingale, 
And after thare longe tale 
He song so lude and so scharpe, 
Kigt so me grulde schille harpe,* 
Thos hule^ luste thider-ward, 
And hold her eye nother-ward, 
And sat to-svolle and i-bolye,^ 
Also he hadd^'one frogge i-svolye.* 

of Summer. 

Summer is a coming in j 
Loud sing, cuckoo, j 
Groweth seed, and bloweth mead 
And springeth the wood now, 

Sing cuckoo, cuckoo. \ 
Ewe bleateth after lamb, | 
Loweth calf after cow, j 
Bullock starteth, buck departeth, 

Merry sing, cuckoo, ; 
Cuckoo, cuckoo. j 

2 owl. 8 swollen. * swallowed. | 



I 



LITERATURE OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 35 



Wei singes thu cuecu, 
Ne swik thu nauer nu, 
Cuccu, cuccu. 



Well siugeth the cuckoo, 
Nor cease to sing now, 

Cuckoo, cuckoo. 



From the prologue to the Rhymed Ghronide of Robert 
Manning. 



Lordynges that be now liere, 

If ye wille listene and lere' 

All the story of Inglande 

Als Kobert Mannyng wryten it fand,^ 

& on Inglysch has it schewed, 

Not for the lerid'' bot for the lewed,** 

For tho that in this land wonn ^ 

That the Latyn no Frankys conn,^ 

For to haf solace and gamen'" 

In felowschip when thai sitt samen.^ 

And it is wisdom forto wytten^ 

The state of the land, and haf it wryten; 

What manere of folk first it won, 

& of what kynde it first begon. 

And gude it is for many thynges 

For to here the dedis of kynges, 

Whilk were foles ^ & whilk '° were wyse. 



The confusion in the language at the beginning of the four- 
teenth century is shown in the following, written in Latin, 
French, and English. 



Quant honme deit parleir, videat quae verba loquatur; 

Sen covent aver, ne stultior inveniatur. 

Quando quis loquitur, bote resoun reste therynne, 

Derisum patitur, ant lutel so shal he wynne. 

En seynt eglise sunt multi saepe priores; 

Summe beoth wyse, multi sunt inferiores. 



On the violation of the Magna Charta. Written in 1311. 



I. 

L'en pent fere et defere 
Ceo fait-il trop sovent; 

It nis nouther wel ne faire; 
Therefore Engelande is shent ; 



1 learn. 
6 know. 



2 found. 3 learned. 

7 enjoyment. 8 together. 



4 unlearned. 
9 fools. 



5 dwell. 
10 which. 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Nostre prince de Engleterre, 

Par le consail de sa gent, 
At Westminster after the feire 

Made a gret parlement. 
La chartre fet de eyre, 

Jeo I'enteink et bien le crey, 
It was holde to neih the fire, 

And is molten al away. 
Ore ne say mes que dire, 

Tout i va a Tripolay, 
Hundred, chapitle, court, and shire, 

Al hit goth a devel way, 
Des plusages de la tere 

Ore escotez un sarmoun 
Of iiij wise-men that ther were 

Whi Engelond is brouht adown. 

II. 

The firste seide, ''I uiiderstonde 

Ne may no king wel ben in londe 
Under God Almihte, 

But he cunne himself rede, 

How he shal in londe lede 

Everi man wid rihte, 
For might is riht, 
Liht is night. 
And fiht is fliht. 

For miht is riht, the lond is lawles; 

For niht is liht, the lond is loreles; 

For fiht is fliht, the lond is nameles." 

III. 

That other seide a word ful god, 
Whoso roweth agein the flod 

Of sorwe he shall drinke; 
Also hit fareth bi the unsele, 
A man shal have litel hele 

Ther agein to swinke. 
Nu on is two, 
Another is wo. 
And frend is fo, 
For on is two, that lond is streintheles, 
For wel is wo, the lond is reutheles ; 
For frend is fo, the lond is loveles." 



LITERATURE OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. 
IV. 

That thridde seide, " It is no wonder 

Of thise eyres that goth under 

When theih comen to londe 

Proude and stoute, and ginneth gelpe, 

Ac of thing that sholde helpe 

Have theili noht on honde 
Nu lust haveth leve, 
Thef is reve, 
And pride hath sieve. 

For lust hath leve, the lond is theweles; 

For thef is reve, the lond is penyles ; 

For pride hath sieve, the lond is almusles." 

V. 

The ferthe seide, thet he is wod 
That dvvelleth to muchel in the flod, 

For gold or for auhte; 
For gold or silver or any wele. 
Hunger or thurst, hete or cliele, 
Al shal gon to nohte. 
Nu wille is red 
Wit is qued. 
And god is ded. 
For wille is red, the lond is wrecful ; 
For wit is qued, the lond is wrongful ; 
For god is ded, the lond is sinful. 

VI. 

Wid wordes as we han pleid, 
Sum wisdom we han seid 

Off olde men and yunge; 
Otf many a thinge that is in londe. 
Whoso coude it understonde, 

So have I told wid tongue. 

VII. 

Riche and pore, bonde and fre, ~ 
That love is god ye mai se ; 

Love clepeth ech man brother; 
For it that he to blame be, 
Forgif hit him par charite, 

Al theih he do other. 

4 



38 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



VIII. 

Love we God, and he us alle, 
That was born in an oxe stalle, 

And for us don on rode. 
His swete herte-blod he let 
For us, and us faire het 

That we sholde be gode. 

IX. 

Be we nu gode and stedefast, 
So that we muwen at the last 

Haven hevene blisse. 
To God Almihte I preie 
Lat us never in sinne deie, 

That joye for to misse. 

X. 

Ac lene us alle so don here, 

And leve in love and good raanere, 

The devel for to shende; 
That we moten alle i-fere 
Sen hira that us bouhte dere, 

In joye withoute ende. Amen. 

From the Boke of Curtasye. 

Another curtasye y wylle the teche,* 

Thy fadur and modur, with mylde speche, 

Thou worschip and serve with alle thy mygt, 

That thou dwelle the lengur in erthely lygt. 

To another man do no more amys, 

Then thou woldys be don of hym and hys, 

So Crist thou pleses, and gets the love 

Of menne and God that syttes above. 

Be not to meke, but in mene the holde, 

For elles a fole thou wylle be tolde. 

From the Latin Chronicle of Geoffrey of Monmouth. 

The island was then called Albion, and was inhabited by none but a few 
giants. Notwithstanding this, the pleasant situation of the places, the 
plenty of rivers abounding with fish, and the engaging prospect of its 
woods made Brutus and his company very desirous to fix their habitation 
in it. They therefore passed through all the provinces, forced the giants 



* Some portions of the Boke of Curtasye, especially those passages enjoining more 
decent habits at table and elsewhere, give an insight into manners grosser than a 
refined age can imagine. 



SYLLABUS. 



39 



to fly into the caves of the mountains, and divided the country among 
them according to the directions of their commander. After this they 
began to till the ground and build houses, so that in a little time the 
country looked like a place that had been long inhabited. At last Bru- 
tus called the island after his own name Britain, and his companions 
Britons, for by these means he desired to perpetuate the memory of his name. 
From whence, afterwards, the language of the nation, which at first bore 
the name of Trojan, or rough Greek, was called British. But Corineus, 
in imitation of his leader, called that part of the island which fell to 
his share Corinea,'* and his people Corineans, after his name; and though 
he had his choice of the provinces before all the rest, yet he preferred 
this country which is now called, in Latin, Cornubia, either from its 
being in the shape of a horn (in Latin cornu), or from the corruption 
of the said name. 

Syllabus. 

There was no decided change in the language of the English for more 
than a century and a half after the Norman Conquest. 
The twelfth century marks the first change. 
The Transition Period extends from 1150 to 1350. 
The English character was asserted in the Magna Charta. 
Feudalism divided society into classes or castes. 

Chivalry mitigated the cruelty of Feudalism, and was refining in its 
influences. 

The Crusades opened up a communication between the East and West. 
Minstrels, Troubadours and Trouveres exchanged songs and stories. 
The Norman Conquest in some respects was an advantage to English 
culture. 

Trouveres were the poets of Normandy; Troubadours were the poets of 
Provenye. 

The Legends of King Arthur were discovered in Brittany in the twelfth 
century. 

The three great subjects of Romance common through Europe were 
Arthur, Alexander, and Charlemagne. 

Three literary works mark the transition stage of the language :— The 
works of Layamon, the Ancren Riwle, the Ormulum. 

Layamon first told in English verse the story of Arthur. 

The Ancren Riwle (Anchoresses' Rule), a series of rules for nuns. 

The Ormulum was a series of Scriptural instruction in verse. 

The Rhyming Chroniclers were, Layamon, Robert of Gloucester, and 
Robert of Manning. 



* Cornwall. 



40 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The English poems of this time were The Owl and the Nightingale, 
The Song of Summer, Home Childe, The King of Tars {Tarsus), and Bal- 
lads of Robin Hood. 

Thomas of Ercildoun was the first Scotch poet. 

Wace was a Norman French poet. 

Map wrote Latin verses and refined the stories of Arthur. 

Eichard Rolle and Laurence Minot were the last poets of this period. 
Minot was the first national song writer of England, 

The first Drama was performed in England during this period (in 1119). 

The Church and Chivalry were the dominant powers of the Middle Ages. 

Roger Bacon and Robert Grosseteste were the chief philosophers of this 
time. 

The Chronicles were all written in Latin. 

The chief chroniclers were Geoffrey of Monmouth, William of Malms- 
bury, Henry of Huntingdon, 

Towards the close of the period the language of England was in a 
confused state ; English, French, and Latin sometimes appearing in one 
composition. 



CHAUCER. 



CHAPTER III. 
The Age of Chaucer. 

1350—1400, 

THE beginning of early modern English dates from the 
middle of the fourteenth century. The political c^dition 
of the country, no doubt, hastened the fusion of tlijjporman 
and Anglo-Saxon tongues. During the reign of Epw-ard III. 
(1327-1377) the long smouldering rivalry betwe^ England 
and France broke out in a series of wars, which brought vic- 
tory to the English. These victories being in a great degree 
^ due to the bravery of the English yeomanry, the language of 
the people came to be more and more respected. In 1362, 
Edward III. passed a law enforcing the use of English in all 
judicial pleadings. Such uses of the language created an im- 
petus in the culture of the long-neglected mother-tongue. 

But the chief cause of the new life of the fourteenth century 
was the awakening of thought, the possibility shown of intel- 
lectual freedom, by throwing off the shackles of scholasticism. 
In England this new birth was mainly due to the preaching of 
John Wycliffe, "the Morning Star of the Keformation." 

This awakening was not confined to England. It was a 
period of intellectual regeneration throughout Europe. In 
Italy the first spark of returning life was seen ; and the fire of 
the old writers of the ''Augustan Age" was revived in Dante. 
Thus the grave of the last writers of antiquity became the 
cradle of modern literature. 

4* 41 



42 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



CHAUCER. 

Seven years after the death of Dante, Geoffrey Chaucer 
(1328-1400), the "Father of English Poetry," was born, and 
with him was ushered in the dawn of a new era. 

Comparatively little is known of the life of Chaucer. He is 
supposed to have been born in London, in the year 1328. He 
was conspicuous in the court of Edward III. as a courtier and 
gentleman, and was frequently employed on embassies of trust 
to foreign nations. In his visits to Italy he probably met with 
Petrarch,* and read the stories of Boccaccio. f He married 
Philippa Pycard, maid of honor to the queen and sister to the 
wife of John of Gaunt, third son of Edward III. This prince 
bestowed upon Chaucer not only patronage, but the warmest 
friendship, so that the poet's fortunes rose and fell with the 
fortunes of the house of Lancaster. Both Chaucer and John 
of Gaunt were favorable to the opinions of Wychffe, and 
Chaucer in his humorous satire was not sparing of the clergy 
and the abuses of the church. 

Chaucer was presented by Edward III. and his queen Phi- 
lippa with a house at Woodstock, where he spent some of the 
happiest portions of his life. Here he retired after the activity 
of public life, and at the age of sixty began to write The Can- 
terbury Tales. A short time before his death he leased a resi- 
dence in the garden of the priory of Westminster, and here, 
in the year 1400, he died. He w^as the first poet buried in 
Westminster Abbey. 

We can see the gay and childlike character of Chaucer in 
his writings, the best known of which are the Canterhury Tales. 
These are a series of stories told by a company of pilgrims on 
their journey to the tomb of Thomas a Becket.J No better 
picture of the times could be presented than this scene affords. 

Whatever the object of the journey, it was customary to travel 
in companies, as the highways were beset by robbers ; so, in the 
Prologue to the Canterhury Tales^ we are introduced to 

" Wei nyne and twenty in a companye of sondiy folk," 



* An Italian poet, 1304-1374. f An Italian romancer, 1313-1375. 

X Archbishop of Canterbury, in the reign of Henry II. He was assassinated in 
the Cathedral of Canterbury, 1171, and canonized three years afterwards. 



THE AGE OF CHAUCER. 



43 



who meet at the Tabard Inn, London, to rest over night, and 
to set out on their journey in the morning to the shrine of the 
martyred saint at Canterbury. These pilgrims are from every 
station in life. There are the Knight and his son, "ayonge 
Squier," a Clerk, a Nun, a Friar, a Doctor of Medicine, a man 
of Law, a Parson, a Miller, a Cook, a Carpenter, a Weaver, 
a Wife of Bath, a Prioress, a Yeoman, a Franklin or rich 
country gentleman, a Plowman, a Pardoner, a Haberdasher, a 
Manciple or steward of a college or religious house, a Reeve 
or bailiff, a Sompnour, an officer who summoned offenders into 
courts, a Dyer, a Tapisser or maker of tapestry, a Merchant, 
a Shipman, two or three priests, and several tradesmen. The 
host of the Tabard, who has ministered to their wants, pro- 
poses to accompany them on their journey ; but, says he, 

" Truly comfort ne mirth is noon, 
To ryde by the way as domb as a stoon," 

so he proposes that each shall tell two stories going and two* 
returning, and that he who tells the best story shall have a 
supper on their return at the expense of the rest. He himself 
will be the judge of the excellence of the stories. To make the 
scene more real, Chaucer places himself among the travellers, 
and as they journey on they tell, amid laughter and tears, their 
stories of mirth and sorrow. 

The genial spirit of the poet pervades all his writings ; and 
his love for the smallest birds and flowers show how entirely 
his heart was attuned to nature's harmony. There is an un- 
rivalled freshness in his spirit, which the appreciative Warton 
compares to a "genial day in an English spring." His love 
for the daisy is everywhere noticeable throughout his works, 
and is the subject of some of his happiest lines. f 

The poetry of the time consisted of imitations. Chaucer 
borrowed, but, in most cases, he improved upon the original. 
His "Romance of the Rose" is a translation of the French 



* Chaucer did not fulfil this design, and The Canterbury Tales consist of but 
twenty-five stories. 

t This little flower was, in the times of chivalry, considered as an emblem of 
fidelity in love. Knights set out on their adventures under its protection, and at 
tournaments it was worn by both knights and ladies. The rose was, in like manner, 
honored. 



44 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



allegorical poem of the same name. The earliest poems of 
Chaucer are all pervaded by the spirit of Provencal poetry, 
and Courts of Love * form an important feature. 

Among the poems of Chaucer which bear the stamp of this 
Provencal or Eomance influence are The Court of Love, The 
Assembly of Fowles, Tfie Cuckoo and the Nightingale, The Flower 
and the Leaf, and the House of Fame. The latter is one of the 
finest of Chaucer's poems, and gives evidence of much learn- 
ing. Like most of his allegorical poems, it is in the form of a 
dream. The poet represents himself as caught up in the talons 
of an eagle and borne aloft to the House of Fame. Here, 
seated on a glittering dais, the goddess of the mansion sits, 
and with characteristic caprice distributes or denies her favors 
to the throngs of candidates who surround her throne. 

While the poet stands amazed at the arbitrary decrees of 
Fame, wondering that some of her suppliants, who seem most 
worthy, are, by her commands, basely "trumpeted" by her 
servant Eolus, he says : 

" oon that stood right at my bak 

Methought full goodly to me spak, 
And seyde, 'Friend, what is thy name? 
Artow come hyder to hav fame?' 
'Nay, forsothe friende!' quod I, 
'I cam not hyder, graunt mercy, 
For no such cause by my liede ! 
Sufficeth me, as I were dede, 
That no wight have my name in honde, 
I wot myself, best, how I stonde.' " f 

With true poetic instincts, Chaucer is keenly alive to all the 
sweet sounds, sights, and odors in nature. The spring is the 
season in which he especially delights : 



* These courts were a species of tribunal in imitation of the higher courts of 
justice. A wealthy baron would invite to his castle his neighboring peers, where, 
for several days, the time was spent in jousts and tournaments. After the distribu- 
tion of honors to those who had been decided victors in these contests, a Court of 
Love was opened, consisting of the most beautiful women of the castle, who dis- 
tributed honors again to knights, who might enter the lists as competitors, not in 
arms, but in verse. In these contests questions pertaining to love were debated by 
the combatants, and decided by the lady who, as queen of Love, presided. 

t In reading Chaucer, accent the final c when the next word begins with a consonant. 



POETS CONTEMPORARY WITH CHAUCER. 



45 



"When sliowres sweet of raine descended softe, 
Causing the ground, fele ^ times and ofte, 
Up for to give many an wholesome aire." 

May is his favorite month. He says : 

"And as for me, though that I konne^ but lyte,^ 
On bokes for to rede I me delyte. 
And to hem yeve* I feyth and ful credence, 
And in myn herte^ heve hem in reverence 
So hertely, that ther is game noon, 
Thet fro my bokes maketh me to goon. 
But ^ yt be seldome on the holy day ; — 
Save, certeynly, when that the moneth of May 
Is comen, and that I here the foules synge, 
And that the flowres gynnen for to sprynge, 
Farewel my boke, and my devocion ! " 

Everything in nature inspires him with fresh delight. In the 
" Cuckoo and the Mglitingale," after describing the songs of 
the birds in the early morning, that "daunceden and lepten on 
the spray," he says : 

"And the rivere that I sate upon 
It made such a noise as it ron, 
Accordaunt with the birdes armony, 
Methought it was the best melody 
That might ben yheard of any mon." 

Poets Contemporary with Chaucer. 

While Wycliffe was boldly attacking the corruptions of the 
church, a less open, but still forcible, attack was made by an 
obscure writer in a poem called " TheVision of Piers Plowman.'''' 
The author of this poem is not positively known, but is believed 
to have been one Eobeht or William Langelande (1333- 
1400), oftener called, however, by the name of the supposed 
dreamer, " Piers Plowman. " Under the guise of an allegory, 
the poet discloses the abuses of the church, and his keen satire 
proved a powerful aid in the work begun by Wycliffe. 

Piers Plowman represents himself as having fallen asleep on Malvern 



1 many 2 know. Utile. ^ give. 6 heart. 6 be out, except. 



46 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Hills, where, in a vision, he sees the personified evils of church and state 
pass before him. The four mendicant orders of Friars he thus depicts : 



In like manner every form of vice is portrayed. The poem consists 
of about fourteen thousand lines. From various allusions it is inferred 
that the work was written between the years 1360 and 1370. Twenty 
or thirty years after the "Vision," the " Creed of Piers Ploivman^' made 
its appearance, but whether it was written by the same author is not 
known. 

Another poet contemporary with Chaucer was John Gow^er (1320- 
1402), called by Chaucer the " Moral Gower." He was a man of schol- 
arly attainments, and did much for the cultivation of the English lan- 
guage, but he had little of Chaucer's poetic sensibility and none of his 
originality. Both plot and incident of all his stories were taken from 
foreign sources. His principal work is the " Confessio Amantis,^' the 
Confessions of a Lover. It consists of a long conversation between a 
lover and his confessor, into which many of the stories of the age were 
interwoven. Some of these tales were taken from the " Gesta Moman- 
orum/' a compilation of ancient stories, which became very popular in 
this story-telling age. 

John Barbour (1326-1396) was one of the earliest poets of Scotland. 
He wrote a rhymed history of Robert Bruce, many parts of which are 
replete with poetic fire. 



Among the prose writers of this period, John Wycliffe 
(1324-1384) stands preeminent. His greatest work is the trans- 
lation of the Bible from the Latin Yulgate into the English. 
Disgusted with a priestcraft that ''glozed the gospel as they 
liked," and "construed it as they would," he determined to 
use his utmost endeavor to place in the hands of the people the 
words of comfort so long withheld from them. Who can de- 
scribe the effect of these simple words of Christ, when sounded 
in their ears in the language that they themselves spoke : 
" Blessid be pore men in spirit, for the kingdom of hevenes is 
herun," and "Blessid ben thei that mournen, for thei schal be 
comfortid. " 



" I fond there freres, 
AUe the foure ordres, 
Prechynge the people 
For profit of hemselve ; 



Glosed the gospel. 
As hem good liked ; 
For coveitise of copes, 
Constrewed it as thei wolde.' 



Prose Writers. 



- LITERATURE OF CHAUCER'S TIME. 



47 



Different portions of the Bible had been at different times 
translated into the Anglo-Saxon, but it was Wycliffe's aim to 
have the whole Bible translated and used by the people, and 
not by the clergy only.* 

Sm John Mandeville (1300-1372) has sometimes been 
styled the " Father of English Prose," but this title he must 
yield to Chaucer, who excelled all writers of his age in prose as 
well as in poetry. Mandeville spent most of his life in travel- 
ling. After an absence of thirty -four years he returned to his 
native country, and wrote a history of his travels, telling some 
very remarkable and absurd tales, prefacing the incredible 
stories with "Men seyn,^ but I have not seen it." 

Illustrations of the Literature of Chaucer's Time. 

OOjOiCK. 

CHAUCER. 

From the KnighVs Tale. 

In a tour, in angwische and in woo, 

This Palamon, and his felawe Arcite, 

Forevermo,^ ther may no gold hem quyte. • 

This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, 

Till it fel oones in a morwe of May 

That Emelie, that fairer was to seene 

Than is the lilie on hire stalkes grene, 

Er it was day, as sche was wont to do, 

Sche was arisen, and al redy diglit.^ 

Hire yolwe heer* was browdid in a tresse 

Byhynde hire bak, a yerde long I gesse. 

And in the gardyn, as the sun upriste, 

Sche walketh up and down wher as hire list. 

Sche gadereth floures, parti whyte and reede, 

To mak a sotil garland for hire heede, 

And as an aungel hevenly sche song. 

The greate Tower that was so thikke and strong, 



* This version had much influence upon other versions that were printed, and upon 
our own, or King James^ Version, made in 1611. Wycliffe's Bible was completed in 
1382, and no other translation was attempted for a hundred and fifty years. 

1 say. ^ were imprisoned for evermore. 3 dressed. * yellow hair. 



48 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Which of the castel was the chief dongeoun 

(Where as these knightes were in prisoun), 

Was even joinant to the gardeyn wal, 

There as this Emelie hadde her pleying.* 

Bright was the sonne, and clere the morwenyng, 

And Palamon, this woful prisoner, 

As he was romyng to and fro, 

And to himself compleynyng of his wo, 

Thurgh a wyndow, thikke of many a barre, 

He cast his eyen upon Emelya, 

And therewithal he blent and cryed, a! . 

As that he stongen were to the herte. 

And with that crye Arcite anon upsterte 

And sayd, " Cosyn myn, what aileth the 

That art so pale and dedly for to see?" 

And with that word Arcite gan espye 

Wher as this lady romed to and fro. 

And with that sight hire beaute hurt him so, 

That if Palamon was wounded sore, 

Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or more. 

Canterbury Tales. 

From the Clerk^s Tale. 

Among this pore folk there dwelt a man, 
W^hich that was holden porest of hem alle, 

But heighe God som tyme sende can 
His grace unto a litel oxe stalle. 
Janicula men of that thorp him calle. 

A doughter hed he fair y-nough to sight. 

And Grisildes this yonge mayden hight.^ 

* * * * -H- * -H- 

This story is sayd, not for thet wyves sholde 

Folwe^ Grisild, as in humilite. 

For it were importable,^ though they wolde; 

But for that every wight in his degre 

Schulde be constant in adversite. — Canterbury Tales. 



* Any light exercise was called playing. 
1 was called. 2 follow. * intolerable. 



LITERATURE OF CHAUCER'S TIME. 



49 



From the Cvjckow and, the Nightingale. 

But now I woU you tell a wonder thing, 
As long as I lay in that swouning, 
Me thought I wist what the briddes ment, 
And what thei said and what was hir intent, 
And of hir speech I had good knowing. 

There heard I the nightingale say, 
" Now good cuckow go somewhere away, 
And let us that can singen dwellen here. 
For every wight escheweth thee to here, 
Thy songs be so elenge/ in good fay." 

" What," quod she, " may thee alen now ? 
It thinketh me, I sing as wel as thou. 
For my song is both true and plaine, 
And though I cannot crakell so in vaine. 
As thou dost in thy throte, I wot never how, 
Every wight may understande me." 

From the Vision of Piers Ploughman. 



In a somer season 

When softe was the sonne, 

I shoope ^ me into shroudes ' 

As I a sheep * weere, 

In habit as an heremite,^ 

Unholy of werkes, 

Wente wide in this world 

Wonders to here ; 

Ac^ on a May morwenynge, 

On Malverne Hilles, 

Me befel a ferly 

Of fairy me thoghte. 

I W9.S wery for-wandred,^ 

And wente me to reste 

Under a brood bank 

By a bouyne's^ syde; 

And as I lay and lenede, 



1 dull. 
5 hermit. 
9 stream's. 
18 knew. 

5 



And loked on the waters, 

I slombred into a slepyng. 

It sweyed so murye.^° 

Than gan I metan 

A marveillous swevene,^'^ 

That I was in a wildernesse, 

Wiste I never where. 

And as I beheeld into the eest 

An heigh to the sonne, 

I seigh a tour on a toft 

Trieliche y-mated, 

A depe dale bynethe, 

A dongeon therinne, 

With depe diches and derke. 

And dredfulle of sight e. 

A feir feeld ful of folk 

Fond I ther- betwene, 



3 clothes. 4 shepherd. 

7 a wonder. 8 weary. 

11 met. 12 dream. 

15 hill. 16 choicely. 



2 shaped. 
6 and. 

10 merry, pleasantly. 
1* saw. 



50 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, 



Of alle manere of men, 

The meene and the riche, 

Werchyinge ^ and wandrynge 

As the world asketh. 

Some putten hem to the plough, 

Pleiden ^ ful selde * 

In settynge and sowynge 

Swonken ^ ful harde, 

And wonnen^ that wastours 

With glotonye destruyeth. 

Ht * * * -Y- 

What this mountaigne bymeneth,^ 

And the merke dale, 

And the feld ful of folk, 

I shal yow faire shewe. 

A lovely lady ^ of leere, 

In lynnen y-clothed. 

Cam down from a castel 

And called me faire, 

And seide, " Sone, slepestow ? ^ 



Sestow this peple 

How bisie thei ben 

Alle aboute the maze ? 

The mooste partie of this peple 

That passeth on this erthe, 

Have thei worship in this world, 

Thei wilne no bettre. 

Of oother hevene than here 

Holde thei no tale." 

***** 

" The tour on the toft," quod she, 

" Truthe is therinne ; 

And wolde that ye wroughte 

As his word techeth ! 

For he is fader of feith. 

And formed yow alle 

Bothe with fel and with face. 

And yaf yow fyve wittes, 

For to worshipe him therewith 

While that ye ben heere." 



The dreamer (Piers Plowman) then asks Holy Church to teach him 
how to know the false, to which the lady replies : 



Loke up on thi left half. 
And lo where he stondeth ! 
Bothe False ^3 ^nd Favel." 
I loked on my left half. 
As the lady me taughte. 
And was ware of a womman 
Worthiliche y-clad 
Purfiled with pelure,^^ 
The fyneste upon erthe, 
Y-corouned with a coroune, 
The kyng hath noon bettre ; 



Fetisliche hire fyngres 
Were fretted with gold wyr, 
And theron rede rubies. 
As rede as any gleede.^^ 

" What is this womman," quod I, 
" So worthili atired ? " 
" That is Mede, the mayde," quod 
she, 

"Hath noyedi9 me ful ofte." 



1 working. 

* seldom. 

7 meaaeth. 
10 seest thou. 
13 falsehood. 
16 fur. 
19 annoyed. 



2 them, 3 play. 

6 labor. 6 -win. 

8 the personification of Holy Church. » sleepest thou. 

" skin. 12 gave. 

1* flattery. 15 embroidered. 

17 elegantly is live coal. 



LITERATURE OF CHAUCER'S TIME. 



51 



BARBOUR. 

AN APOSTROPHE TO FREEDOM. 

A ! fredome is a nobill thing ! 

Fredome mayse man to haiff liking ! 

Fredome al solace to man giffs : 

He levys at ese that frely levys ! 

A nobil hart may haff nane ese, 

Na elles nocht that may him plese, 

Gyff fredome failythe : for fre liking * 

Is yearnyt our all othir thing, 

Na he, that ay has levyt fre. 

May nocht knaw weill the propyrte, 

The angyr, na the wretchyt dome, 

That is cowplyt to foule thyrldome. 

But gyfF he had assay it it, 

Then all perquer he suld it wyt; 

And suld think fredome more to pryse 

Than all the gold in warld that is. — Bruce. 

WYCLIFPE. 

From Translation of the New Testament. 

MATTHEW, CHAPTER VIII. 

Forsothe when Jhesus hadde comen down fro the hil, many cumpanyes 
folewiden hym. And loo ! a leprouse man cmnmynge worshipide him, 
sayinge ; Lord gif thou wolt, thou maist make me clene. And Jhesus 
holdynge forthe the honde, touchide hym, sayinge, I wole ; be thou maad 
clene. And anoon the lepre of hym was clensid. And Jhesus saith to 
hym ; See, say thou to no man ; but go sliewe thee to prestis, and olFre 
that gifte that Moyses comaundide, into witnessing to hem. 

Sothely when he hadde entride in to Capharnaum, centurio neigide 
to hym preyinge hym, and said, Lord my child lyeth in the hous sike 
on the palsie, and is yuel tourmentid. And Jhesus saith to hym, I shal 
cume, and shal hele hym. And centurio answerynge saith to hym. 
Lord, I am not worthi, that thou entre vndre my roof ; but oonly say bi 
word, and my child shall be helid. For whi and I am a man ordeynd 
vndre power, hauynge vndir me knightis ; and I say to this, Go, and he 
goth ; and to another, Come thou, and he cometh ; and to my seruaunt, 
Do thou this thing, and he doth. Sothely Jhesus, heerynge these thingis, 
wondride, and said to men suynge hym : Trewly I saye to you, I fond not 
so grete feith in Ysrael. 



52 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



SIR JOHN MANDEVILLB. 

OF THE CONTRES AND YLES THAT BEN BEYONDE THE LOND 
OF CATHEY. 

In passynge be the Lond of Cathaye, toward the highe Ynde, and 
toward Bacharye, men passen be a Kyngdom, that men clepen Caldilhe, 
that is a fulle fair Contrie. And there growithe a manere of Fruyt, as 
thoughe it weren Gourdes ; and whan thei ben rype, men kutten hem 
a to, and men fynden with-inne a lytylle Best, in Flessche in Bon, and 
Blode, as though it were a lytylle Lomb with outen Wolle. And men 
eten bothe the Frut and the Best ; and that is a gret Marveylle. Of 
that Frute I have eten ; alle thoughe it were wondirfulle : but that I 
knowe wel, that God is marveyllous in his Werkes. And natheles I 
tolde hem, of als gret a Marveylle to hem that is amonges us : and that 
was of the Bernakes * For I told hem that in oure Contrie weren Trees 
that beren a Fruyt, that becomen Briddes fleeynge ; and thei that fellen 
into the Water ly ven ; and thei tliat fallen on the Erthe, dyen anon : 
and thei ben right gode to Mannes mete. And here of had thei als gret 
marvaylle, that sume of hem trowed it were an impossible thing to be. 



From thet Lond, in returnynge be 1 jorneys thorge out the Lond of 
the grete Chane, is another gode Yle, and a gret Kyngdom, wliere the 
King is ful riche and myghte. And amonges the riche men of his 
Contree is a passynge riche man, that is no Prynce, ne Duke, ne Erl. 
He hathe every day, 50 fair Damyseles, alle Maydenes, that serven him 
everemore at his Mete. And whan he is at the Table, thei bryngen him 
hys Mete at every tyme, 5 and 5 to gedre. And in bryngynge hire 
Servyse, thei syngen a Song. And aftre that, thei kutten his Mete, and 
putten it in his Mouthe : for he touchethe no thing ne handlethe nought, 
but holdethe evere more his Hondes before him, upon the Table. For 
he hathe so longe Nayles, that he may take no thing, ne handle no thing. 
For the Noblesse of that Contree is to have longe Nayles, and to make 
hem grow en alle weys to ben as longe as men may. And there ben 
manye in that Contree, that han hire nayles so longe that tliey envyronne 
alle the Hond ; and that is a gret Noblesse. And the Noblesse of the 
Women is for to haven smale Feet and litille : and therefore anon as 
thei ben born, they leet bynde hire Feet so streyte that thei may not 
growen half as nature wolde. And alle ways theise Damyselles, that I 



* Barnacles, the name of a species of sea fowl, anciently supposed to grow out of 
the barnacles attached to wood in the sea. 



SYLLABUS. 



53 



spak of beforn, syngen alle the tyme that this riche man etethe : and 
when that he eteth no more of his firste Cours, than other 5 and 5 of 
faire Darayseles bryngen him his seconde Cours, alle weys syngynge, as 
thei dide beforn. And so thei don contynuelly every day, to the ende of 
his Mete. And in this manere he ledeth his Lif. And so dide thei 
before him, that weren his Auncestres ; and so schulle thei that comen 
aftir him. 

Syllabus. 

Early Modern English dates from the middle of the fourteenth century. 
In 1362 Edward III. passed a law enforcing the use of English in judicial 
pleadings. 

VVyclifife's doctrines influenced the age. 

The fourteenth century was a period of intellectual regeneration through- 
out Europe. 
Dante, an Italian, was the first modern poet. 

Chaucer was born in London, 1328, seven years after Dante's death. 
He received the favor of Court. 

Chaucer and John of Gaunt favored the opinions of Wycliflfe. 
Chaucer wrote the Canterbury Tales after he was sixty years of age. 
He died in 1400, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. 
His life is best seen in his writings. 

The Canterbury Tales present a true picture of the times. 
The earliest poems of Chaucer are copied after the poetry of Southern 
France. 

Most of his allegorical poetry is in the form of dreams. 

Chaucer's love of Nature is evident in all his writings. 

" The Vision of Piers Ploivman,'^ by William Langlande, is an allegorical 
poem satirizing the abuses of the Church. 

The ''Creed of Piers Plowman," published later, is the work of an un- 
known author. 

Gower was a contemporary and friend of Chaucer. His chief work is 
the Confessio Amantis. 

"Gesta Romanorum " was a compilation of old stories. 

Barbour was a Scotch poet of the time. 

" Bruce " was his principal poem. 

Wycliflfe was the most important prose writer. 

He was the first to translate the whole Bible. 

After Wycliffe there was no translation of the Bible for a century and a 
half. 

Sir John Mandeville was a traveller. He wrote a history of his Voiage 
and Travaile. 
6* 



CAXTON. 



CHAPTER IV. 
Revival of Learning. 

1400-1558, 

AFTER Chaucer no great name appears in the history of 
English Literature for nearly a century and a half. It 
was as if the fresh morning ushered in by that genial poet had 
suddenly been clouded over. Yet the period, however void of 
literary genius, was far from being one of inaction. It was an 
age of preparation, a gathering of forces for the great literary 
outburst of the following period. The seed sown by Wycliffe 
was expanding into the Reformation. Learning was univer- 
sally encouraged. The Byzantine Empire had fallen into the 
hands of the Turks, and the learned men of Constantinople, 
obliged to flee for their safety, sought refuge in foreign coun- 
tries, thus diffusing the accumulated learning of their capital. 
The court of Lorenzo de Medici, the great Italian patron of 
learning, was thrown open to receive them, and thither from 
every nation flocked the ripest scholars to gain instruction from 
these learned men. The study of Greek and Latin was every- 
where revived. 

The invention of printing was, however, the leading cause 
of the dissemination of learning in the latter part of the fif- 
teenth century, while the spirit of discovery which incited 
daring maritime adventures, and added a New World to the 
Old, had increased the restless desire for knowledge. 

England, notwithstanding her losses in France, and her 
devastating wars at home, in the conflict between the Houses 

54 



BALLAD POETRY. 



55 



of York and Lancaster, shared the spirit of the age in con- 
tributing to the revival of learning. Her greatest scholars, 
Grocyx, ColeTj and Linacre, all studied under the Greek 
refugees at Florence ; and Erasmus, a learned Hollander who 
visited England for the sake of acquiring a knowledge of Greek 
under Grocyn, writes : 

I have found in Oxford so much polish and learning, that now I 
hardly care about going to Italy at all, save for the sake of having been 
there. When I listen to my friend Colet, it seems like listening to Plato 
himself. Who does not wonder at the wide range of Grocyn's knowl- 
edge ? What can be more searching, deep, and refined than the judg- 
ment of Linacre? When did Nature mould a temper more gentle, 
endearing, and happy than the temper of Thomas More ? " 

Again Erasmus illustrates the enthusiasm of the age for 
classic studies : 

" I have given up my whole soul to Greek learning," he writes, " and 
as soon as I get any money I shall buy Greek books, and then I shall 
buy some clothes." 

Ballad Poetry. 

Poetry, the offspring of feeling and imagination, finds its 
truest expression in the mother tongue. In the age of which 
we now are speaking, the attention of the learned being called 
to the Greek and Latin, it followed, as a natural consequence, 
that the art of poetry was left in the hands of the common 
people. Hence, to this age we are indebted for our ballad 
poetry.* In these rude rhymes we obtain a more vivid glimpse 
of the national life of the people than through the more pol- 
ished productions of the learned. 

Among the ballads which may be referred to this time are 
Chevy-Chase^ The Battle of Otterbourne, The Nut-Brown Maid., 
and various poems on Bohin Hood, the bold outlaw. Original 
expression was not sought by the rustic composers, and some- 
times whole lines seemed to be the common property of the 
various unknown minstrels. A favorite introductory line was : 



* Excepting Spain, no countries in Europe are so rich in ballad literature as Eng- 
land and Scotland. 



56 SlBTORY Of mOLISB LITERATURE, 



" Lithe and listen, gentlemen," 

Or, 

" Hearken to me, gentlemen, 
Come and you shall heere," 

while through nearly every recital the faithful and inevitable 
little foot-page keeps up the constant pace, 

" One while the little foot-page went, 
Another while he ranne." 

Certain stereotyped adjectives were invariably used with 
certain nouns. All barons were "bold ; " every lady, "fair" 
and her hand, " lily white ; " a rose was a " red, red rose," and 
England always "merrie England." 

Later versions of these charming old ballads utterly fail to 
express the vigor and rude melody of the originals. The most 
popular ballads suffered the most, by being transmitted orally 
from generation to generation, each reciter trying to make the 
meaning more intelligible by substituting the more polished 
phrase of his own time. 

Scottish Poets. 

Of the known poets of this period, there were better writers 
among the Scotch than among the English. James I. of Scot- 
land (1394-1437) ranks highest among the poets of the fifteenth 
century. Detained a prisoner in the court of England for nine- 
teen years, he there received a princely education, which de- 
veloped not only a poetical genius, but the qualities of mind 
and heart to render him a fit ruler of his nation when at last 
he obtained his liberty. His best work, entitled the King^s 
Quair (book), was written during the last years of his captivity. 
It relates the romantic incidents of his life, chief of which was 
seeing from his prison window his future wife, the lovely Jane 
Beaufort, granddaughter of John of Gaunt. His description 
of this "freshe younge flower," and the circumstances under 
which he saw her, remind us of "Erailie " and the imprisoned 
" cosyns " in Chaucer's Knight's Tale.* Although this Scotch 
poet was a devoted admirer of Chaucer and a professed fol- 
lower, there is enough originality in his poem to redeem it from 
the reproach of being a mere imitation. 



* See page 47. 



PROSE WRITERS, 



57 



Other Scotch poets of the fifteenth century were Wyntoun and 
Blind Harry, but of scarcely sufficient merit to quote. In the early 
part of the sixteenth century the prominent Scotch poets were William 
Dunbar (1465-1530), Gawain Douglas (1474-1522), and Sir David 
Lindsay (1490-1555). 

English Poets. 

OccLEVE and Lydgate, in the early part of the fifteenth century, 
were, like James I. of Scotland, the professed followers of Chaucer. 
John Skelton (1460-1529) was a coarse English satirist. 

The two polishers of English verse in the early part of the 
sixteenth century were Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey 
(1516-1547), and Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542). United by 
the bonds of friendship, the names of these two poets will 
always be coupled together in the history of English literature. 
To elegant scholarship and courtly attainments they added true 
knightly virtues. Both were entrusted by the King, Henry 
YIII., with important commissions, and both lives were sacri- 
ficed to that monarch, Wyatt 's indirectly, and through zeal in 
serving the King ; but Surrey, by direct order of Henry YIII., 
met his death on the scaffold. 

There is but little in Wyatt's poetry to attract the modern 
student of literature ; and Surrey is chiefly held in remembrance 
as the first writer of sonnets and blank verse in the English 
language. Some of his sonnets are full of poetic grace, espec- 
ially those addressed to " Geraldine. " Love is the chief theme 
of both Surrey's and Wyatt's songs and sonnets. Both poets 
wrote refined satires. 

Prose Writers. 

The art of printing was first introduced into England by 
William Caxton (1412-1492), who, though he laid no great 
claim to authorship, wrote and translated several books, and 
with untiring industry brought into popular notice the best 
works of his own and of preceding times. One of his own 
translations from the German was the famous satire of Benard 
the Fox. 

The first book printed in England was The Game of Chess^ 
1474. The first book printed in the English language was The 
History of Troy. This was printed in Cologne in 1471. 



58 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The most remarkable character and most distinguished prose 
writer of this period was Sm Thomas More (1480-1535). 
After the fall of Cardinal Wolsey he became Lord Chancellor, 
which high office he held until 1535, when he became obnoxious 
to Henry YIII., and was beheaded, ostensibly for denying that 
monarch to be the supreme head of the church. Ko character 
ever presented greater contradictions than that of Sir Thomas 
More. A stern and rigid Catholic, scourging weekly his own 
body, and wearing next to the lacerated flesh a shirt of hair, 
from his chair of office carrying to the verge of cruelty the 
punishment of offenders, he was yet the most genial compan- 
ion and wittiest of men. His home at Chelsea was the resort 
of the learned and great, who gathered here for the rare privi- 
lege of enjoying his conversation. The contests of wit between 
More and the learned Erasmus were sometimes very brilliant.* 

The chief work of Sir Thomas More is the ZJtqpm, the name 
signifying No Place. It was written in Latin, and is a satire 
on the state of society in his own time. Utopia is a place of 
ideal perfection in laws, politics, and manners. More repre- 
sents himself as being introduced at Antwerp by his friend, 
Peter Giles, to one Raphael Hythloday, a traveller, more at 
home on sea than on land, who used to say " that the way to 
heaven was the same from all places, and he that had no grave 
had the heavens still over him." At the request of the two 
friends, the traveller discourses to them upon his wonderful 
adventures, but takes for his especial theme "The best state 
of a Commonwealth," which he illustrates by the laws and 
customs of Utopia, the island which he had lately discovered. 

"We asked him many questions concerning all these things (his 
travels), to which he answered very willingly ; only we made no in- 
quiry for monsters, than which nothing is more common, for every- 
where one may hear of ravenous dogs and wolves and cruel man-eaters ; 
but it is not so easy to find states that are well and wisely governed," 

Utopia is represented as an island in the shape of a crescent. 



* A striking feature of More's humor was his ability to jest under the most painful 
circumstances. Even upon the scaffold he jested. Laying his head upon the block, 
he for an instant suspended the headsman's blow, as with characteristic, yet unex- 
ampled, serenity he gathered in his hand his long beard, saying, as he drew it aside, 
" Spare this : it hath committed no treason." 



BIBLE TRANSLATIONS. 



59 



so much curved that the two extremities coming close together 
form an excellent harbor. So graphic was More's description 
of this island, and its happy inhabitants, that some wise men 
of the day believed it really existed, and desired to send mis- 
sionaries to convert so excellent a people to Christianity ! 

Bible Translations. 

Wycliffe's translation of the Bible had been completed in 
1382, and circulated in manuscript copies. For a century and 
a half no other translation had been attempted. Twent}' j^ears 
after the death of Wycliffe it was decreed that 

" No one should thereafter translate any text of the Bible into Eng- 
lish, and that no book of this kind should be read that was composed 
lately in the time of John Wyclif or since his death." 

And about the same time, or in 1400, an act of Parliament 
decreed that those dissenting from the Catholic Church should 
be punished with death. Yet, for all this, the doctrine of 
transubstantiation was becoming widely questioned. Monks 
and priests began to tremble for their slippery foothold. They 
looked with jealous apprehension upon the art of printing, 
not only because it rendered useless their beautiful manuscript 
copying, but because it spread enlightenment and revealed the 
corruptions of the church. One zealous priest declared : "We 
must root out printing, or printing will root out us," 

In the face of decrees and dogmas, William Tyndale 
(1480-1536) undertook his cherished design of translating the 
Bible from the Greek and Hebrew originals. England afforded 
no safe retreat for the work he had undertaken, and he em- 
barked for Holland. He resided chiefly at Antwerp, and in 
1525 completed the ^^'ew Testament. It sold rapidly, edition 
after edition being imported into England, notwithstanding 
the fact that the importers were rigorously prosecuted. 

Tyndale left his native land in 1523, never to return. With 
untiring devotion he labored abroad at the work to which his 
life was dedicated ; but he was finally betrayed into the hands 
of spies of Henry YIII., imprisoned, and in 1536 burned near 
Antwerp. His last words were: "O Lord, open the king of 
England's eyes I" Scarcely had Tyndale expired before the 



60 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



arbitrary king, having created himself Head of the Church in 
England, commanded the circulation of the Bible throughout 
the realm. 

Other translations rapidly followed Tyndale's. The first was made 
by Miles Coverdale (1487-1568), and was dedicated to the king. 
This was the first English translation that was printed entire. 

The CrREAT Bible, or Cranmer's, as it is called, because Cranmer 
wrote a preface to it, appeared in 1539. 

The Geneva Bible was prepared by the English Protestants, who 
took refuge in Geneva during Mary's stormy reign.* 

Scholars and Writers on Education. 

Among the scholars of this age who contributed to literature 
were Koger Ascham and Sm John Cheke. Both were, 
likewise, tutors in the royal family. 

KoaER Ascham (1515-1568), the honored preceptor of Queen 
Elizabeth and Lady Jane Grey, deserves especial mention as 
the first English writer on education. He sought to win the 
learned men of his time from the exclusive study of the Greek 
and Latin to a more careful cultivation of the vernacular. 
His principal work is The Schoohnaster. 

Sir John Cheke (1514-1557) was the first professor of 
Greek at Cambridge. He was also tutor to Prince Edward, 
afterward Edward YI. Although his chief works were written 
in Latin, and, like Erasmus, "his whole soul was given to 
Greek," he yet did much for the improvement of the English 
language by encouraging clear and forcible expression. He at 
one time, it is said, advocated a scheme for eradicating all 
words from the language that were not derived from Saxon 
roots. 

With the new learning came also the desire to improve the 



* After the death of Henry VIII., his son and successor, Edward VI., enjoyed a 
short reign of comparative quiet ; and, aided by Cranmer, promoted the Refor- 
mation. The five years' reign of Mary, which followed, was marked by the burning 
of nearly three hundred heretics, prominent among whom were John Rogers 

( 1555), who had aided Tyndale in his work of translating the Bible; Hugh 

Latimer (1472-1555), one of the meekest and most genial spirits of the Reformation ; 

Bishop Ridley ( 1555), one of the most learned advocates of the new faith; and 

Thomas Cranmer (1489-1556), who had occupied the highest position in the Church 
of England, and was the first Protestant Archbishop of Canterbury. 



MISCELLANEOUS WRITERS. 



61 



mother-tongue. This ambition, worthy in itself, was not with- 
out dangerous consequences, as in many writers it resulted in 
a forced and affected style of expression.* 

Chroniclers. 

The principal chroniclers of this period were Robert Fabyan 
(1450-1512) and Edward Hall (1499-1547). The historioa^of the 
former are repetitions of Geoffrey of Monmouth's old stories, with ad- 
ditional annals down to the year 1485. Edward Hall wrote a history 
of events occurring within his own time. He called his work " The 
Union of the Two Noble and Illustre Families of Lancasire and Yorke," 
etc. This work afforded the basis of many scenes for the play-writers 
of the next period. 

Sir Thomas More wrote a History of Edward V. and Richard III., 
Lord Berners (1474-1532) translated Froissart's Chronicles, and 
John Bellenden (1495-1550), a Scotchman, translated into Scotch 
prose a Latin history of his country. In this history we learn the story 
of Macbeth. 

Miscellaneous Writers. 

Sir Thomas Malory, of whose life but little is known, collected, 
about the year 1470, the stories of King Arthur, under the title of 
Tlie Byrth, Lif, and Actes of Kyng Arthur. The work was printed by 
Caxton in 1485. It is often entitled Morte d^ Arthur. 

Bishop Pecock (1390-1460) was a theologian who opposed Wycliffe's 
doctrines, and appealed in his arguments to reason rather than to 
church authority, thus losing favor with his own party. His works 
were formally condemned and burned. His most important work is 
The Repressor. 

Sir John Fortesqtje (1395-1485) wrote an English work, entitled 
the Difference between Absolute and Limited Monarchy. 

Bishop Bale (1495-1563), besides producing nineteen miracle plays, 
wrote an Account of the Lives of Eminent Writers of Great Britain. 

* Thomas Wilson, the first critical writer upon the English language, published, 
in 1553, a System of Rhetoric and Logic. In urging greater simplicity of style, he says : 
'•'Some seek so far for outlandish English, that they forget altogether their mother's 
language. And I dare swear this, that, if some of their mothers were alive, they 
were not able to tell what they say. The unlearned or foolish fantastical will so 
Latin their tongues that the simple cannot but wonder at their talk, and think surely 
they speak by some revelation. I know them that think rhetoric to stand wholly 
upon dark words; and he that can catch an inkhorn word by the tail, him they 
count to be a fine Englishman and a good rhetorician." He thus ridicules the allit- 
erative style then in vogue : " Pitiful poverty prayeth for a penny," ^tc. 



62 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



John Leland (1505-1552) was the first English Antiquarian 
writer. 

The Paston Letters were letters written or received by different 
members of the Paston family between the years 1440 and 1505. They 
give interesting information concerning the Wars of the Eoses and 
other matters of historic interest, and throw much light on the domestic 
manners of the time. These letters were first collected and published 
by Sir John Fenn in 1787. 

Illustrations of the Literature 
Fro^n 14=00—1558. 

From The Ballad of Cheyy-Chasb. 

The wardens of the marches, or border lands, between Eng- 
land and Scotland were Percy, on the English side of the 
Cheviot Hills, and Douglas, on the Scottish side. The rivalry 
between these two families gave rise to the old ballad of Chevy- 
Chase. Indeed, the border feuds were the subject of many of 
the finest of the old ballads. 

The First Fit.^ 

The Perse owf* of Northumberland, 

And a vowe to God mayd he, 
That he wolde hunte in the mountaynes 

Off Chyviat within dayes thre. 
In the mauger^ of doughte Dogles 

And all that ever with him be. 

The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat 

He sayed he wold kill and carry them away; 

"Be my feth,""* sayd the doughte Doglas agayn, 
" I wyll let ^ that hontyng gif that I may." 

The dryvars thorowe the woodes went 

For to reas the deer, 
Bow-men bickarte^ uppone the bent* 

With their browd arras cleare. 



1 FroQi the Anglo-Saxon fitt, a song or part of a song. 2 out. 3 in spite of. 
* faith. 6 hinder. 6 skirmished. '' hill. 



LITERATURE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 



63 



Then the wyld^ thorowe the woodes went 

On every syde shear ; 
Grea-hondes thorowe the greves^ glent 

For to kyll thear deer. 

The began on Chyviat the hyls above, 

Yerly on monnyn day. 
Be that it drewe to the houre of none' 

A hondrith fat hartes ded ther lay. 

The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good, 

Withouten any fail; 
The were borne along be the watter a Tweed, 

Yth* bowndes of Tividale. 

The doughti Doglas on a stede 

He rode at his men beforne: 
His armor glytteryde as did a glede,^ 

A bolder barne^ was never born, 

"Tell me what men ye ar," says he, 

"Or whos men that ye be: 
Who gave youe leeve to hunte in this 

Chyviat-Chays in the spyt of me?" 

The first man that ever him an answer meyd, 

Yt was the good lord Perse: 
"We wyll not tell the what men we are," he says, 

"Nor whos men that we be; 
But we wyll hount heer in this chays 

In the spyte of thyne, and of the. 

"The fattiste hartes in all Chyviatt 

We have kyld, and cast^ to carry them away." 
" Be my troth," ^ sayd the doughte Doglas agayn, 

" Ther-for ® the ton of us shall de this day." * 



* This ballad consists of sixty-eight stanzas. 
1 wild deer. 2 groves. ^ noon. * in the. 

6 a burning coal. 6 man. ^ intend. ^ truth. 

9 therefore the one of us shall die this day. 



64 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



JAMES I. OP SCOTLAND. 

From the King's Quair. 

Now was there made, fast hy the Toure's wall, 
A garden fair; and in the corners set 

An herbere^ green, with wandis long and small 
Railed about, and so with treeis set 
Was all the place, and hawthorne hedges knet, 

That life was none walking there forby, 

That might within scarce any wight espy. 

■X- ^ * -JS- * * ¥: 

And therewith cast I doun myn eye again; 

Whereas I saw, walking under the Toure, 
Full secretly, new comyn her to playen,'^ 

The fairest, or the freshest younge flower 

That ever I saw, methought, before that hour, 
For which sudden abate anon astert 
The blood of all my body to my heart. 
•X- * •?«■ * * 

And when she walked had a little threw 

Under the sweete greene boughis bent 
Her fair fresh face, as white as any snow. 

She turned her, and furth her wayis went; 

But tho^ began my aches* and torment, 
To see her part and follow I na might, 
Methought the day was turned into night. 

HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY. 

Contrast the two sonnets given below, — the simple beauty 
and earnestness of the first, with the affected alliterative style 
of the latter. Both were written by the Earl of Surrey. 

Description of Spuing. • 
The soote^ season, that bud and bloom forth brings, 

With green hath clad the hill, and eke the vale. 
The nightingale with feathers new she sings; 

The turtle to her make ^ hath told her tale. 
Summer is come, for every spray now springs; 

The hart hath hung his old head on the pale,'' 



1 arbor. 2 play, take exercise. 

* the soft sound was sometimes given to the ch in this word. 

^m%te. 7 paling. 



3 then. 

^ s.^eet 



LITERATURE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 65 



The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; 

The fishes flete with new repaired scale; 
The adder all her slough away she flings; 

The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale ; ^ 
The busy bee her honey now she mings ; ^ 

Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale. 
And thus I see among these pleasant things 
Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs. . 

The Frailty and Hurtfulness of Beauty. 
Brittle beauty, that Nature made so frail. 

Whereof the gift is small, and shorter is the season ; 
Flow' ring to-day, to-morrow apt to fail ; 

Tickle ^ treasure, abhorred of reason : 
Dangerous to deal with, vain, of none avail: 

Costly in keeping, past, not worth two peason,* 
Slipperer in sliding than is an eel's tail; 

Hard to obtain, once gotten never geason ; ^ 
Jewel of jeopardy, that peril doth assail ; 

False and untrue, enticed oft to treason ; 
Enemy to youth, that most men bewail ; 

Ah ! bitter sweet, infecting as the poison. 
Thou fairest as the fruit that with the frost is taken; 
To-day ready ripe — to-morrow all to shaken. 

SIR THOMAS MORE. 

From the Utopia. 
Of their Laws. 
They have but few laws, and such is their constitution that they need 
not many. They do very much condemn other nations, whose laws, 
together vf ith the comments on them, swell up so many volumes ; for 
they think it an unreasonable thing to oblige men to obey a body of laws 
that cannot be read or understood by every one of the subjects. They 
have no lawyers among them, for they consider them as a sort of people 
whose profession it is to disguise matters as weJl as to wrest laws. 

Of Wealth. 

They w^onder much to hear that gold, which in itself is a very use- 
less thing, should be everywhere so much esteemed, that even man, for 
Avhom it was made and by whom it has its value, should yet be thought 
of less value than it is. 



1 small. 2 mingles. 3 unsteady. * plural pea, 6 worth getting. 
6* E 



66 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Of Music. 

They exceed as much in their music, both vocal and instrumental, 
which does so imitate and express the passions, and is so fitted to the 
present occasion, whether the subject-matter of the hymn is cheerful or 
made to appease, or troubled, doleful, or angry, that the music makes 
an impression of that which is represented, by which it enters deep into 
the hearers, and does very much affect and kindle them. 

In Travelling, 
They carry nothing with them, yet in all their journey they lack 
nothing, for wheresoever they come they be at home. There are no 
wine taverns nor ale houses. 

On War. 

They detest war as a very brutal thing, and which, to the reproach 
of human nature, is more practised by men than by any sort of beasts. 

A Common- Wealth. 
In all other places it is visible that whereas people talk of a Com- 
mon-wealth, every man only seeks his own wealth, but there all men do 
zealously pursue the good of the public. 

WILLIAM TYNDALE. 
From the Translation of the New Testament. 
Luke X. 25. 

And marke a certayne Lawere stode up and tempted hym, sayinge : 
Master, what shal I do to inherit eternall lyfe ? He sayd unto him : 
What is written in the lawe ? Howe redest thou ? And he answerde, 
and sayde : Thou shalt love thy lorde god wyth all thy hert and wyth 
all thy soule and wyth all thy strengthe and wyth all thy mynde and 
thy neighbor as thy self. 

ROGER ASOHAM. . 

From the Schoolmaster. 

" Before I went into Germanic, I came to take my leave of that noble 
Ladie Jane Grey, to whom I was much beholdi;Qg. Her parentes, the 
Duke and the Duches, with all the houshold. Gentlemen and Gentle- 
women, were huntynge in the Park. I found her, in her Chamber, 
readinge Phaedon Platonis in Greeke, and that with as moch delite as 
some jentlemen wold read a merie tale in Bocase."* 

■5«- * -X- * -X- * -X- * 

* Boccaccio. 



LITERATURE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 67 



" As for the Latin and Greek tongue, every thing is so excellently 
done in them that none can do better ; in the English tongue, contrary, 
every thing in a manner so meanly, both for the matter and handling, 
that no man can do worse. 

" He that will write well in any tongue must follow this counsel of 
Aristotle, to speak as the common people do, and think as wise men 
do." 

SIR THOMAS MALORY. 

From the History of King Arthur and the Knights of 
THE KouND Table. 

How King Arthur had all the knights together for to just in the meadow be- 
side Camelot, or they departed in search of the Holy Gi^ail. 
" Now," said the king, " I am sure at this quest of the sancgreall, 
shall all ye of the round table depart, and never shall I see you again 
whole together, therefore I will see you all whole together in the 
medow of Camelot, for to just and to turney, that after your death men 
may speak of it, that such good knights were wholly together such a 
day." But all the meaning of the king was to see Sir Galahad proved, 
for the king deemed hee should not lightly come againe unto the court 
after his departing. And the queene was in a tower with all her ladies 
for to behold that turnement. 

Of the great lamentation that the f aire made of Astolat made when Sir Laun- 
celot shoidd depart, and how she died for his love. 
. . . And then she called her father. Sir Bernard, and her brother, 
Sir Tirre, and heartily she prayed her father that her brother might 
write a letter like as she would endite it. And when the letter was 
written word by word like shee had devised, then she prayed her father 
that she might be watched untill she were dead. "And while my 
body is whole, let this letter be put into my right hand, bound fast with 
the letter untill that I be cold, and let me be put in a faire bed with all 
the richest clothes that I have about me, and so let my bed and all my 
rich clothes be laide with me in a barge, and but one man with me, 
such as ye trust to stere me thither, and that my barge be covered with 
black samite over and over." Then her father and brother made great 
dole, for when this was done, anon shee died. And so the corpse and 
the bed and all was led the next way unto the Thamse, and there a man 
and the corps and all were put in a barge on the Thamse, and the man 
steered the barge to Westminster. 

So by fortune king Arthur and queene Guenivere were speaking to- 



68 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



getter at a window ; and so as they looked at the Thamse, they espied 
the black barge, and had marvaile what it might meane. . . . And then 
the king took the queene by the hand, and went thither. Then the 
king made the barge to be holden fast; and then the king and the 
queene went in, and ther they saw a faire gentlewoman lying in a rich 
bed, and covered with rich clothes, and all was of cloth of gold ; and 
shee lay as though she had smiled. Then the queene espied the letter 
in the right hand, and told the king thereof. Then the king brake it 
open, and bade a clarke to reade it. . . . Then was Sir Launcelot sent 
for, and king Arthur made the letter to be red to him. And Sir Laun- 
celot said, " My lord king Arthur, wit you well that I am right heavy 
of the death of this faire damosell ; God knoweth I was never causer 
of her death, by my will, and that I will report mee unto her owne 
brother, here hee is, Sir Lavaine. She was bothe faire and good, and 
much I was beholden to her, but she loved me out of measure." . . . 
Then said the king to Sir Launcelot, " It will be your worship that you 
oversee that shee bee buried worshipfully." " Sir," said Sir Launcelot, 
"that shall be done as I can best devise." And on the morrow shee 
was richly buried. 

Syllabus. 

After Chaucer, there was no great poet in England for a hundred and 
fifty years. 

The period was one of great events, but of no great literary works. 

The principal events were the Invention of Printing, The breaking up 
of the Eastern Empire (1453), The Discovery of America, The beginning 
of the Eeformation (1517). 

It was a period of revival in learning. 

Poetry was left in the hands of the uneducated. Ballad poetry was the 
result. 

There were more poets in Scotland than in England. 
King James I., Dunbar, Gawain Douglas, and Lindsay were the chief 
Scottish poets.- 

In England, Occleve and Lydgate were professed followers of Chaucer. 
Skelton was an English satirist. 

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, and Sir Thomas Wyatt were the pol- 
ishers of English verse. 

Surrey introduced the Sonnet and Blank verse into English poetry. J 
William Caxton introduced printing into England. \ 
Sir Thomas More was the most prominent writer of the age. Utopia 
was his principal work. It was written in Latin. 



i 



SYLLABUS. 



69 



William Tyndale translated the New Testament. He was condemned 
and burnt at Antwerp. 

Other translations of the Bible were Coverdale's, Cranmer's, or the 
Great Bible, The Geneva Bible, etc. 

Craumer, Latimer, Eidley, and John Eogers were martyrs in Queen 
Mary's time. 

Eminent scholars of the age were Grocyn, Colet, Linacre, Sir Thomas 
More, Erasmus (a Hollander), Sir John Cheke, Eoger Ascham, Thomas 
Wilson, etc. 

The last three labored to cultivate the English language as well as the 
Latin and Greek. 

The principal chroniclers of the time were Robert Fabyan, Edward Hall, 
Lord Berners, translator of Froissart's Chronicles, and John Bellenden, 
who translated a Latin History of Scotland. 

Sir Thomas Malory collected the Arthurian Legends. 

Sir John Fortesque and Reginald Pecock were among the ablest men of 
the time. 

John Bale wrote Miracle Plays and Lives of British Writers. 
John Leland was the first English Antiquarian. 

The " Paston Letters" were written by the Paston family, and throw 
much light on the domestic manners of the time. 



SHAKESPEARE. 



CHAPTER V. 
The Elizabethan Period. 

1558—1649. 

THE period usually styled the Elizabethan or the Golden 
Age of English Literature is embraced within the reigns 
of Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I., beginning about the mid- 
dle of Elizabeth's reign, reaching its meridian splendor in the 
reign of her successor, and gradually declining with the reign 
of Charles I. It was the culmination of the forces of the pre- 
ceding age. New discoveries had opened new mines of thought 
and enterprise ; the knowledge accumulated in the age just 
ended was assimilated in this, and as getting learning had 
been the fashion of the preceding age, appearing learned was 
the fashion of this. The fact that all three of the sovereigns 
encouraged literature, and that Elizabeth and James were 
both ambitious of literary distinction, were incentives to their 
followers, and literary pursuits became the fashion of the day. 
The women were as learned as the men, in many instances 
more so. In praise of Elizabeth's learning, her old tutor, Roger 
Ascham, says : 

" I believe that beside her perfect readiness in Latin, Italian, French, 
and Spanish, she readeth here, at Windsor, more Greek every day than 
some prebendary of this Church doth Latin in a whole week." * 

With such a woman as Queen, what wonder that a host of 
learned women followed in her train. The three sisters, Lady 



* Deducting the flattery from this, the fact still remains that Elizabeth gave much 
time to study. 

70 



THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 



71 



Bacon, Lady Burleigh, and Lady Killigrew ; Sidney's sister, 
the Countess of Pembroke ; Lady Jane Grey, and many other 
women, read Plato and Cicero in the original, and made fre- 
quent translations. 

The political condition of England was favorable to the pro- 
duction of literature. Never before had the nation been so 
prosperous. Never before had a sovereign selected wiser and 
more judicious counsellors than those by whom Elizabeth sur- 
rounded herself. Wisdom and moderation characterized the 
reign. The terrible ordeal of "turn or burn," the watchword 
in Mary's time, was transmuted into an ordinance of peace and 
toleration. Wealth and prosperity flowed into the kingdom ; 
intellectual labor was rewarded, and intellectual recreations 
demanded. The old institution of chivalry had left enough of 
its genuine spirit to tinge the age with the love of romance and 
adventure, and to produce such knights as Raleigh and Sidney, 
while the classical learning of the preceding century gave a 
solid basis for the glow of imaginative genius in this. ' 

It was an age not only of literary advancement, but of prog- 
ress in refinement of every kind. Various improvements in 
household arrangements crept in. Chimneys to the houses 
became quite common, and in the seventeenth century fire- 
places were built nearly in the present style.* 

Less attention, however, seems to have been given to domes- 
tic and genuine home comforts than to exterior display and 
ornamentation. The three thousand dresses of the Queen 
serve to indicate the luxury and extravagance of the time. 
Brilliancy in everything characterized the age. Diamonds 
flash, silks rustle, and all is pageantry and show. Not a 
courtier but would have thrown his velvet cloak over the mud, 
as Sir Walter Ealeigh did, for Elizabeth's dainty foot to pass 
over. They lived an ideal and unreal life. All the world to 
them was, indeed, a stage, and the men and women merely 



*It was not until the reign of James I. that forks were used to eat with. Soon 
after, tables with leaves were used, and the salt became the dividing line at table be- 
tween the aristocracy and common people, the latter being seated below the salt. 
Before this time, the dais, or raised platform, had separated the two classes in the 
dining-hall. After the middle of the seventeenth century the hall itself ceases to 
be mentioned as the chief room of the house. 



72 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



pla3^ers. Genuine feeling was displaced by feigned passions, 
and earnest living by unreal acting. 

It was an age of imagination, and we are not surprised at 
the character of the literature. When pageantries and brill- 
iant displays found most favor with the Queen, what wonder 
that the Drama should be the prevailing literature of the day, 
and that the dramatists should exceed in number all other 
writers of the age. 

That this age should give rise to the greatest poet as well as 
the greatest dramatist is what might be expected— the poet's 
poet of imagination all compact," and that his theme should 
be the typified exploits of Arthur and his knights, and that his 
poem should be called the Faerie Queen^ is also just what might 
be expected from this chivalrous, courtly age. The long-fet- 
tered imagination had burst all bonds of restraint, and now 
revelled in its untried freedom. A new field of literary enter- 
prise was thrown open, and the writers, trammelled hj no rules 
or antecedents, were guided by genius and fancy. It was a 
pei'iod of creative conception. 

The first half of Elizabeth's reign was not prolific in great 
writers. Other countries in Europe were far in advance of 
England in the productions of literature.* 

The three great names of the Elizabethan period are 
Shakespeake, Spenser, and Bacon. Shakespeare, the 
greatest dramatist, if not the greatest literary genius the world 
has ever seen ; Spenser, the second of England's great non- 
dramatic poets ; and Bacon, the first of philosophers who 
urged utility as the end of scientific investigations. Any one 



* Italy, under the rule of Lorenzo de Medici and his son, Pope Leo X., had attained 
to a high degree of elegance in literature, and Ariosto, Michael Angelo, and Machi- 
avelli, each in his own department of letters and art, had contributed to the wealth 
of Italian lore. The real period of French literature was in the seventeenth cen- 
tury, yet we find the names of Philippe de Comines, of Marot and Rabelais, Calvin 
and Montaigne, prior to the great burst of intellectual splendor in England, while 
the greatest of Portuguese writers, Canioens, died just as the literature of England 
was beginning to dazzle the world. Spain more neaily coincided with England in 
her period of literature, yet she had had her Boscan, Garcellasso, Mendoza. and 
Ercilla. Her greatest genius, Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote, died on the 
same day that Shakespeare died.* 



* Lope de Vega and Caldeion, of Spain, lived later in tlie same century. 



POETRY, 



73 



of these great names would have distinguished an age ; but, 
surrounding these three, were innumerable brilliant writers, 
all aglow with the kindled enthusiasm for literature. The 
theatre, the court, and the church afforded the chief stimulus 
to literary genius. 

Poetry, 

Fulness characterized the poetry of the age, and long poems 
were the rule. The author had no fear of wearying the reader. 
Books were a new source of entertainment, and were eagerly 
devoured by the enthusiastic readers. Ko great poet had ap- 
peared since Chaucer, though a hundred and fifty years had 
elapsed. When, therefore, Spenser's Faerie Queen and Shep- 
herd's Calendar appeared, it was an era in the literary world. 

ED3IUND Spenser (1553-1599) was born in London. His 
early life was spent in humble circumstances, and, after gradu- 
ating at Cambridge, he spent some time in the north of England, 
where he wrote his S/iephercVs Calendar, and fell in love with 
some fair Kosalind, supposed by biographers to have been 
a sister of another poet, Samuel Daniel. She, however, did 
not reciprocate Spenser's attachment, and many years after 
he married a lady whose first name alone is recorded, Elizabeth. 
The beautiful marriage hymn, the Dpithalummm, which he 
wrote in her praise, is one of the most exquisite love songs in 
the language. 

Spenser counted among his warmest friends the generous 
Sidney and Sir Walter Kaleigh. Through their influence he 
was introduced to courtly circles and gained the patronage of 
the Queen. He was commissioned with some public trust in 
Ireland, which he performed so faithfully that Elizabeth gave 
him a present of three thousand acres of land near Cork, — the 
confiscated property of the insurgent Earl of Desmond. Here 
Spenser was obliged to live, that being one of the conditions of the 
grant. His residence, Kilcolman Castle, occupied a command- 
ing view of the surrounding country. The river Mulla ran 
through his grounds, and by its banks the poet enjoyed many 
hours of study and retirement. Here Kaleigh visited him, and 
here they read together the yet unpublished manuscript of the 
Faerie Queen. Through Raleigh's persuasion Spenser returned 
with him to London and presented to the Queen the finished 
7 



74 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



manuscript of the first two books of that famous poem. EUz- 
abeth finding herself so magnificently reflected in its pages, was 
delighted with the poem. It pleased, likewise, the chivalric 
tastes of her courtiers, and the poem became instantly popular. 
Again at Kilcolman Castle he resumed his pen and finished the 
first six books of the Faerie Queen. The intention had been to 
write twelve. 

Like other great minds of his own and of every age, Spenser 
conceived a project which a lifetime was insufficient to realize. 
The twelve books were designed to represent twelve virtues, 
each portrayed in the person of a knight. The Queen of Fairy 
Land holds a twelve days' feast. Each of the allegorical knights 
sets out on an adventure to conquer some error at strife with 
the virtue which he personifies. The First Book tells the story 
of the Red Cross Knight, the type of Holiness, and also of t!ie 
Church of England ; the Second Book relates the history of 
Sir Guyon, the personificati(m of Temperance ; the Third of 
Britomartis, or of Chastity ; the Fourth Book treats of Friend- 
ship ; the Fifth of Justice, and the Sixth of Courtesy. King 
Arthur is the hero and connecting link throughout, and in 
himself embraces all the virtues. The knight-errant spirit 
of the subject suited Spenser's fertile imagination, and although 
the allegory is less pleasing than the old Celtic myth of Arthur, 
the rich imagination of Spenser has clothed the whole with 
undying splendor. The several allegorical characters, besides 
representing virtues, are intended to personate historic charac- 
ters. The Faerie Queen symbolizes Elizabeth herself; the 
envious Duessa, the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, and 
also the Catholic Church ; while the Bed Cross Knight typifies 
the Church of England, or Holiness, also the patron St. George. 

The student of the English language may be surprised at the 
antiquated diction of Spenser, when the language had so far 
progressed at the time in which he wrote. The poet himself 
best accounts for it. He delighted in Chaucer, and Piers Plow- 
man, and his sympathetic, impressive nature imbibed the very 
spirit of those old masters, and found expression in their lan- 
guage. 

In defence of his style he says, speaking of himself in the 
third person. 



MINOR ELIZABETHAN POETS. 



75 



"And having the sound of those aimcient poets still ringing in his 
eares, he moiight needes in singing hit out some of their tunes." 

Besides the Faerie Queen and Shepherd's Calendar, Spenser 
wrote many other minor poems, the most beautiful of which is 
the Epithalamium. Mother HuhbarcVs Tale is a satire on certain 
classes of the clergy. Spenser's chief prose work, entitled A 
View of the State of Ireland, shows his policy in the government 
of that oppressed nation. By his advocacy of arbitrary power 
he became unpopular with the Irish, and soon after Tyrone's 
rebellion, an insurrection broke out in Munster, and Kilcolman 
Castle was burned to the ground. It is said that Spenser's 
youngest child perished in the flames. The poet returned to 
London and in three months afterward died. He was buried 
in Westminster Abbey, near the tomb of Chaucer. 

Minor Elizabethan Poets. 

Among the most prominent of the minor poets of this time, were 
Thomas Sackville, Egbert Sol'thwell, Samuel Daniel, 
CHAEL Drayton, Phineas and Giles Fletcher, Warner, AVotton, 
Donne, Davies, and towards the close of the period several others, 
among them good old George Herbert, and Joseph Hall, the latter 
as nearly contemporary with Milton as with Shakespeare, may be looked 
upon as the connecting link between the two periods. 

Thomas Sackville (1536-1608) known also as Lord Buckhurst 
and Earl of Dorset wrote The Mirror for Maghtrates. 

Robert Southwell (1560-1595), whose cruel death is a reproach 
upon Elizabeth's reign, was the first of the so-called religious poets of 
England. His verse is imbued with a spirit of genuine piety and 
morahty. Born of Eoman Catholic parents, he was educated at Douay 
and Rome, and afterwards became a Jesuit. Knowing the risk which 
his act encountered, he returned to England to proffer his religious aid 
to friends and family. Through Elizabeth's agents he was apprehended, 
thrown into prison, and cruelly treated, on the pretext that he was en- 
gaged in a conspiracy against the government. After a long and patient 
endurance of prison torture he was executed. This is but one instance 
of the darker side of the picture of " Merrie England " at this time. 

Samuel Daniel (1562-1619) succeeded Spenser as poet-laureate. 
His chief poem is a history of the civil wars between the houses of 
York and Lancaster. 

Michael Drayton (1563-1631) is chiefly known by his long poem. 



76 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Polyolhion, which, as its name indicates, embraced everything concerning 
England. The Battle of Agincourt- is a spirited poem celebrating the 
victory gained by Henry V. of England over the French in 1415.'^ 

John Donne (1573-1631) was an eccentric genius, known equally 
well as poet and as prose writer ; for after a career of aimless and un- 
profitable study, during which he wrote elegies, satires, and miscellaneous 
poems, his life an example of wasted intellect, he took up in earnest the 
study of theology, and became most fervent in his profession. His 
sermons present a curious medley of knowledge and wisdom. Donne 
is styled the first of the metaphysical school of poets.f 

The appearance of these poets was the indication of a decline of the 
warm poetic impulse. 

Later Elizabethan Poets. 

After the reign of James I. poetry began to decline. Yet a few lyric 
poets enlivened the sombre tone into which it had fallen. Some of 
these poets belong quite as much to the succeeding period as to the 
Elizabethan Age. 

George Herbert (1593-1632) is an embodiment of the serious, re- 
flecting spirit which seemed to pervade the declining age of this period. 
His poetry, however, is hardly sufiicient to preserve his memory, if we 
except the beautiful lines on Virtue, 

" Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright," etc. 

His chief prose work is the Country Parson, in which he says : — " I have 
resolved to set down the form and character of a true pastor, that I may 
have a mark to aim at, which, also, I will set as high as I can, since he 
shoots higher that threatens the moon, than he that aims at a tree-top." 

Francis Quarles (1592-1644) and Kichard Crashaw ( 1650) 

were, like good old George Herbert," religious poets. Of the poems 
of Quarles the Divine Emblems are best remembered. Richard Crashaw 
is praised for his "lyric raptures," and is remembered as the author 
of the oft-repeated lines relative to the miracle of the water being 
turned into wine, 

" The conscious water saw its God and blush'd." 



* Our poet, Longfellow, adopted the same measure in his poem, " The Skeleton in 
Armor." 

t A term not very clear, but which is generally understood to mean a class of 
poets who, imbued with a philosophizing spirit, carry out a train of thought further 
than their readers wish to follow. 



THE DRAMA. 



77 



Joseph Hall (1574-1656) is known equally well as a poet and 
writer on Divinity. Kis chief poetical works are Satires, which he 
styled Virgidemariuni (a harvest of rods). They consist of the Biting 
and Toothless Satires. 

In the latter part of this period a French influence began to prevail 
in literature, as in the court. The wife of Charles I., Queen Henrietta, 
was the daughter of the King of France, and French models in litera- 
ture, as in everything else, began to take the place of the Italian, which 
had so long prevailed. The poems of the court of Charles I. were, for 
the most part, short love songs, the taste of the day rejecting the long 
poems in which the court of Elizabeth delighted. The poems of Her- 
RiCK, Carew, Lovelace, and Suckling have the exuberant lively 
French spirit. 

Kobert Herrick (1591-1674) was one of the most gifted of the lyric 
poets of the latter part of this age. His verse is spontaneous and natural. 

Sir John Suckling (1608-1642) was also free from the artificial re- 
straints which the literary taste of the time demanded. His Ballad 
upon a Wedding has always been deservedly popular. 

The poets last named represent the cavalier spirit of the time. 

Scottish Poets. 

The poetry of Scotland during Elizabeth's reign was not as luxuriant 
as in the preceding period. There were, however, Scotch poets worthy 
of mention. Among them were -William Drummond of Hawthorn- 
den (1585-1649), the friend of Ben Jonson, Sir Robert Ayton 
(1570-1638), and George Buchanan (1506-1582), the latter tutor to 
Mary Queen of Scots, and also to her son, James VI. of Scotland and 
I. of England. 

The Drama. 

In order to give a correct idea of the Drama as it existed in 
the age of Elizabeth, we must trace its development from the 
old Miracle and Moral Plays., which formed the crude entertain- 
ment of the Middle Ages. As early as the eleventh century 
we hear of the Miracle Plays, which were, for the most 
part, representations of Bible scenes, no character being too 
sacred to introduce. The favorite subjects were the Creation, 
the Deluge., and the Crucifixion. The actors were priests or 
monks, assisted frequently by the Merry Minstrels. It was the 
7* 



78 BISTORT OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



means taken by the Church to instruct the ignorant in Bible 
history and in the tenets of the Christian faith. 

The plays were usually performed in churches, or in rude 
buildings adapted to the purpose, and sometimes in the open 
air. The first or ground floor of a building represented hell, 
the second floor this world, and the highest story heaven. 
The Devil was a prominent character, being chief comedian, 
appearing always with the traditional horns and hoofs. 

The comic element was displayed even in these old Bible 
traditions. Thus in the play of the Deluge, Noah's wife 
evinces reluctance to entering the ark. Koah resorts to ex- 
treme measures, and silences her opposition by beating her. 

The Moral Plays, which succeeded the Mysteries, were a 
doubtful improvement upon the latter. They were allegorical 
representations of moral quaUties, impersonations of Yice and 
Virtue, Mercy, Justice, etc. The Moralities were shorter-lived 
than the old Mysteries, which may be easily inferred from 
their lack of human interest : to keep them alive for a short 
time, it was found necessary to retain the horned comedian of 
the Miracle Plays. The Devil and the Vice were the humor- 
ous personages of the stage. From the Vice of the Moral 
Plays, " the fool " of the succeeding drama sprang. 

Soon the demands for representations from actual life 
pushed from the stage the old Moralities, and a lighter species 
of dramatic performance was invented, styled the Inter- 
lude. This was in the time of Henry VIII. 

The first writer of Interludes was John Heywood 

( 1565), or "Merry John Heywood," as he was styled. 

He was a great favorite with Henry VIII. and also with 
Mary. The Interlude was the first step towards the English 
comedy. It was a species of farce, its characters drawn from 
real life. It was called an Interlude because it was played in 
the intervals of some festivity — originally in the midst of a 
long Moral Play — for the amusement of wearied spectators. 

The best known interlude of Heywood's is called the Four 
P''s. It represents a dispute between a Palmer,^ a Pardoner,t 



* One who visits holy shrines, and, on his return, bears a branch of palm as a token, 
t One who sold pardons or indulgences, licensed by the Pope. 



THE DRAMA. 



79 



a Poticary,* and a Pedlar, and ends in their trying to see which 
can tell the greatest lie. The Palmer is considered victorious 
when he says, speaking of the distant lands through which he 
has travelled : — 

" Yet have I seen many a mile, 
And many a woman in the while; 
And not one good city, town, or borough, 
In Christendom but I've been thorough: 
And this I would ye should understand, 

^ I have seen women five hundred thousand, 
Yet in all places where I have been. 
Of all the women that I have seen, 
I never saw nor knew on my conscience. 
Any one woman out of patience!" 

Unwillingly the other P's yield the palm to this narrator, 
who has excelled them in the "most ancient and notable art 
of lying." 

The first comedy in the language was written by Nicholas 
Udall (1506-1604), about the middle of the sixteenth century, 
or near the time of EUzabeth's accession to the throne, and 
was called Balph Royster Boyster. 

Ealph, the hero, is a blustering, vain fellow, in mad pursuit of a rich 
widow, whom he does not obtain. The language, though not polished, 
is not indecent, and probably represents the rustic manners of the time. 
" Tibet Talkapace," one of the rich widow's servants, thus congratulates 
herself on the approaching marriage of her mistress to " a rich man 
and gay." 

"And we shall go in our French hoodes every day, 
In our silk cassocks I warrant you, fresh and gay. 
Then shall ye see, Tibet, sires, treade the mosse so trimme, 
Kay, why said I treade ? ye shall see hir glide and swimme, — - 
Not lumperdee, clumperdee, like our spaniell Kig." 

The first English tragedy was called Ferrex and Porrex or 
Gorhoduc. It was written by SACKViLLEf and Norton, and 
was played before Elizabeth a few years after her accession. 
The story was based on an old British legend, found in the 
chronicles of Geoff'rey of Monmouth. 



* Apothecary. 



t Thomas Sackville, author of The Mirror for Magistrates. 



80 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Soon after, Richakd Edwards (1523-1566) produced the 
play of Damon and Pythias, the first EngUsh tragedy founded 
on a classical subject. The play was probably inferior to Gor- 
boduc, but it became more popular. 

Following in tiie list of dramatic writers, were Peele, Nash, Kyd, 
Lyly, Greene, and Marlowe, antedating by a few years only the 
appearance of Shakespeare. Grouped around this central luminary 
were still others of various magnitude. There were Ben Jonson, 
Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger, Chapman, Webster, Mid- 
DLETON, Marston, Ford, Thomas Heywood, Dekker, Kowley, 
Lodge, and the last of the Elizabethan dramatists, James Shirley. 

The lives of these writers present a series of struggles for a bare 
existence. They did not write for fame— they seem simply to have of- 
fered themselves as sacrifices to the spirit of the age, and died, many 
of them, of poverty and neglect. 

Although Elizabeth was very fond of plays, it is not at all improba- 
ble that she encouraged them somewhat with the aim of opposing the 
Puritan spirit which condemned such amusements.. Be that as it may, 
play-going was the chief entertainment of the time. It served for the 
newspaper, magazine, and novel of the present day. 

Blackfriars was the first theatre built in London, and before thirty 
years had elapsed there were eighteen."^ 

With scarcely an exception, all the dramatists participated in the 
acting of their own plays. Shakespeare, it is said, played the Ghost in 
Hamlet, and Adam in As You Like It. 

Peele, Nash, Greene, and Marlowe were wild, reckless charac- 
ters, given to all manner of excesses. Educated at Oxford and at Cam- 
bridge, and with a wealth of native genius, their lives were actually 
squandered in lawless dissipation. 

* At an early hour in the afternoon the signal for assembling was given, by the 
hoisting of a flag from the roof of the theatre. These buildings were constructed 
* of wood, and were of a circular form, and uncovered, except by a thatched roof ex- 
tending over the stage. The Queen and her retinue sometimes occupied seats below 
the gallery, and sometimes upon the stage, where the gay courtiers lounged upon the 
rush-strewn floor, while their pages supplied them with pipes of tobacco, that new 
article of luxury introduced by Sir Walter Raleigh. 

The furnishing of the stage was meagre. There were no illusions of movable 
scenery, but when the place of action was to be changed, a board containing the name 
of the place was exhibited. 

No woman ever acted upon the stage until nearly half a century after Shakespeare's 
time. All the female characters were represented by youths and delicate-looking 
young men. 



THE DRAMA. 



81 



George Peele (1553-1598) was, with Shakespeare, a shareholder 
in Blackfriars theatre, and also an actor. His tragedy of Edward 1. is 
the first play founded on an English historical subject. His other plays 
are King David and Bethsaba, and the tragedy of Absalom. Besides plays, 
Peele also wrote a legendary story, partly in prose and partly in blank 
verse. 

Robert Greene (1560-1592) also wrote tracts, or pamphlets as they 
were called, consisting of short stories from one of which, it is said, 
Shakespeare derived his Winter's Tale. Greene's most famous tract 
was called "A Groat'' s Worth of Wit Bought with a Million of Repentance/' 
in which he addresses his associates, and warns them against the folly 
and wickedness of their ways. This was his last work, and although 
written in the spirit of repentance, it expresses the bitterness which he 
felt against " the upstart crow," as he jealously termed Shakespeare. 
Greene wrote numerous plays. His principal comedy is Friar Bacon 
and Friar Bungay. 

Christopher Marlov^^e (1564-1593), or, as he was often called, Kit 
Marlowe, was the most brilliant of the dramatists before Shakespeare. 
His life presents a scene of debaucheries, and his death was as violent 
and unhappy as his life, Marlowe's plays are not numerous, but are 
marked by strength and poetic skill, and in their wild exaggeration 
reflect his own extravagant life. His principal dramas are Tamburlane, 
The Jew of Malta, Doctor Faustus, and Edward II. The play of Tambur- 
lane represents unbounded ambition ; the Jew of Malta, the passions 
of hatred and gain ; Doctor Faustus, based on the same legend upon 
which Goethe afterwards founded his celebrated Faust, depicts "the 
struggle and failure of man to possess all knowledge and all pleasure 
without toil and without law." Edward II. is the tragic story of that 
king, which in itself needs no coloring. Marlowe was the first to use 
blank verse in the English drama. 

Marlowe, Greene, and Peele are by far the most important names in 
the English drama preceding Shakespeare, if two or three years of 
priority can entitle them to a precedence, in time, worth naming. 

Thomas Kyd was called by Jonson the " Sporting Kyd," merely 
as a play upon the name. His dramas are not especially gay. The 
Spanish Tragedy is his most important play. 

The influence of John Lyly (1553-1600) upon the vi^riters 
of Elizabeth's time was probably greater than that of any 
other man. His plays, nine in number, are of comparatively 
small account. He is known to the literary world by his story 

F 



82 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



of Eiqjlmes, or the Anatomy of Wit^ and Euphues omd his 
England.^ and this work so affected the language of the court 
and of literature, that only a few — the strongest minds — re- 
mained uninjured by its influence. Although forced, artificial, 
and pedantic in the extreme, the style became so popular that 
not to be able to discourse in it was to lack one of the most 
fashionable court accompUshments. The romance of Euphues 
first appeared in 1579, and its influence lasted throughout 
Ehzabeth's reign, and indeed much longer.^ 

The style consisted of overdrawn analogies and forced an- 
titheses. Intended as a garb of wit, it became a mere distor- 
tion of language. The fashion was admirably burlesqued by 
Shakespeare in the fantastical Spaniard, Don Adriano de Ar- 
mado, in Love's Labor Lost. 

Euphues tastes the bitterness of folly, repents so thoroughly, that he 
forever after becomes a counsel-monger. Some of his advice is excel- 
lent, and throughout the work there is a high moral tone that is grati- 
fying in this age of exuberant expression. The book is pure and 
chaste throughout. 

Euphues makes many friends in Italy and falls in love. Deceived 
by the lady, he says, " As therefore I gave a farewell to Lucilla, a fare- 
well to Naples, a farewell to women, so nowe do I give a farewell to the 
worlde, meaning rather to macerate myselfe with melancholy, than 
pine in follye, rather choosing to die in my studye amiddest my bookes, 
than to court it in Italy, in ye companye of ladyes," 

Euphues then travels in England, and his encounters there, 
or the experiences of his friend Philautus, form the concluding 
part of the book, or Euphues and his England. 



* Sir Henry Blount, a courtier in the time of Charles I., says in his preface to Lyly's 
works, "Our nation is in debt for a new English which he taught them. Euphues 
and. his England began first that language ; all our ladies were then his scholars ; and 
that beauty in court which could not parley Euphuism— that is to say, who was 
unable to converse in that pure and reformed English which he had formed his 
work to be the standard of, was as little regarded as she which now, there, speaks not 
French." 

The story of Euphues is of a young Athenian who visits Italy, and there, reject- 
ing the wholesome counsel of an old gentleman in Naples, who, "seeing his mirth 
without measure, yet not without wit, began to bewail his Nurture, and to muse at 
his Nature." "But," he reflects, " it hath been an olde sayde sawe, and not of lesse 
truth than antiquity, that wit is the better if it be deare bought." 



THE DRAMA. 



83 



The faults of the style of Lyly can be traced to the copying 
of Italian literature, in which, as Eoger Ascham said, a story 
of Boccaccio was of more account than a story from the Bible. 
It is "a style modelled on the decadence of Italian prose."* 

SHAKESPEARE. 

Of thehfe of William Shakespeake (1564-1616), the great- 
est of all writers, we know comparatively little. • It is easy and 
pleasant to conjecture, and many stories are told of his life 
which may or may not be true. 

He was born, it is said, on the 23d of April, 1564, at Strat- 
ford, a rural village in the heart of England, on the little 
stream of Avon. Here for several generations his ancestors 
had lived as worthy and respectable farmers. Shakespeare's 
father was high-bailiff, or mayor of the town, and was well-to- 
do. He had married Mary Arden, an heiress, whose ancestors 
had played a conspicuous part in the old wars of England. 
The poet was one of ten children. What course in life his 
parents had laid out for him we do not know. That he was 
not sent to Oxford or Cambridge we have tolerably clear evi- 
dence, but we can imagine him "with his satchel and shining 
morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school," over 
the hills of Warwickshire and through the "forest of Arden," 
finding " tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, ser- 
mons in stones, and good in everything." 

The love of pageantry and show was not confined to London or to 
the court, but remote villages like Stratford held their merry-making 
festivals, and when the players from London would come up to that 
quiet little town, it is not difficult to imagine the delight with which 
tliey were followed by the boy, William Shakespeare. Probably he 
was permitted to witness the gay performances at Kenilworth Castle, 



* At the same time that Euphuism prevailed in England, the "estilo culto" or cul- 
tivated style, arose in Spain, threatening, for a time, to overthrow the common lan- 
guage of the people. This affected style in Spain was taught by Gongora. It was 
a pompous, inflated manner inherited probably from the Moors, and copied by the 
Italians as well as by the Spaniards. It is a curious coincidence in the history of 
English and Spanish Literature that these ideas should prevail at the same time and 
in the midst of the most flourishing literary periods. Fortunately, there was suf- 
ficient strength in the speech of both countries to overcome this cultivated jargon 
and preserve the languages in their simplicity. 



84 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



not far away from Stratford, where Leicester entertained the Queen with 
such pomp and magnificence. 

Surrounding Stratford were other small villages, and one, 
called Shottery, was often visited by the youthful Shakespeare, 
for here lived the idol of his heart, Anne Hathaway. '^ 

*ANNE HATHAWAY. 



[Attributed to Shakespeare, and originally addressed, " To the idol of my eyes and de- 
light of my heart."] 



Would ye be taught, j'e feathered throng, 
Witli love's sweet notes to grace your song 
To pierce the heart with thrilling lay. 
Listen to mine Annef Hathaway! — 
She hath a way to sing so clear. 
Phoebus might wondering stojj to hear, — 
To melt the sad, make blithe the gay. 
And nature charm, Anne hath a way; 

She hath a way, 

Anne Hathaway ; 
To breathe delight, Anne hath a way. 

When Envy's breath and rancorous tooth 

Do soil and bite fair worth and truth, 

And merit to distress betray, 

To soothe the heart Anne hath a way. 

She hath a way to chase despair. 

To heal all grief, to cure all care, 

Turn foulest night to fairest day. 

Thou know'st, fond heart, Anne hath a way; 

She hath a way, 

Anne Hathaway; 
To make grief bliss, Anne hath a way. 

Talk not of gems, the orient list — 
The diamond, topaz, amethyst. 
The emerald mild, the ruby gay,— 
Talk of my gem, Anne Hathaway; 
She hath a way, with her bright eye, 
The various lustres to defy ; 
The jewel she — and the foil they — 
So sweet to look Anne hath a way; 

She hath a way, 

Anne Hathaway; 
To shame bright gems Anne hath a way. 

But were it to my fancy given 
To rate her charms, I 'd call them heaven ; 
For though a mortal made of clay. 
Angels must love Anne Hathaway; 
* The auihorship is not clearly ascertained. f Anne is pronounced Ann. 



THE DRAMA. 



85 



When Shakespeare was eighteen and Anne Hathaway twenty- 
five they were married. Three children were born to them, 
Susannah, Hamnet, and Judith. 

Shakespeare, four years after his marriage, went to London. 
Various stories are told of his hfe here, but for six years after 
he left Stratford there are no records of his actions. When he 
next flashes upon us he is dazzling the London world with his 
brilliant genius. The numerous play-writers who had before 
this been found sufficient to entertain the Queen and her cour- 
tiers now became jealous of this superior genius. Greene said 
to his fellow play-writers : 

" There is an upstart crow, beautified with our feathers, that, with his 
tiger's heart wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to 
bombast out a blank verse as the best of you ; and, being an absolute 
Johannes Factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a 
country." 

At this time Blackfriars was the only theatre in London, and of this 
Shakespeare soon became manager. When the Globe theatre was 
started on the opposite side of the Thames, Shakespeare became mana- 
ger and proprietor of that also. He acquired wealth, and after a long 
connection with the stage he retired to Stratford, where he had pur- 
chased a large estate and built a stately mansion, known as " New 
Place." Hither he brought his parents to spend their declining days, 
and here, surrounded by his family, he wrote his last plays. He died 
on his fifty-second birthday, the 23d of April, 1616, and was buried at 
the little church in Stratford. As if to seal forever to an inquiring 
world all that was known of Shakespeare, over his grave was placed a 
tablet with the following forbidding inscription : 

" Good friend, for Jesvs sake forbeare 
To digg the dvst encloased heare ; 
Bleste be ye man yt spares these stones, 
And cvrst be he yt moves my bones." 

"New Place," his last residence, is demolished, but the house 



She hath a way so to control, 
To rapture the imprisoned soul, 
And sweetest heaven on earth display, 
That to be heaven, Anne hath a way; 

She hath a way, 

Anne Hathaway; 
To be heaven's self, Anne hath a way ! 

8 



86 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



in which Shakespeare was born still stands in Stratford, with 
various relics of the daily life of its early occupants. 

To Ben Jonson, a brother dramatist of Shakespeare's, we are indebted 
for many hints concerning the life of the great poet and dramatist. 
Jonson in his honest fashion says : " I loved the man, and do honor to 
his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any. He was, indeed, 
honest, and of an open and free nature : had an excellent fancy, brave 
. notions, and gentle expressions ; wherein he flowed with that facility 
that sometimes it was necessary to be stopped. His wit was in his own 
power ; would the rule of it had been so too ! But he redeemed his 
vices with his virtues ; there was ever more in him to be praised than 
'pardoned." 

Spenser's praise of Shakespeare is even more appreciative of 
his intellectual qualities : 

" And he, the man whom Nature selfe had made 
To mock herself and Truth to imitate." 

Jonson and Spenser are the only writers of Shakespeare's 
time who seemed to have in any degree appreciated the great 
genius among them. He lived too close upon the time for the 
mass of the people to appreciate or see his greatness. 

His first poems were not dramatic, but, from the teeming 
imagination which they display, might, of themselves, have 
given him high rank in the literature of that day. But his 
wonderful dramas so far surpassed his poems that the latter 
have almost escaped the notice of the general reader. His 
sonnets, a hundred and fifty-four in number, seem to have been 
the receptacle of his more sacred personal feelings, but what 
phase of his life's history they express is unknown. Their 
tone is almost invariably sad. 

His first dramatic writings were historic, or, rather, they 
consisted of the recasting of old plays of a historic nature, 
many of them taken from the less skilful hands of his brother 
dramatists.* 

* Hence Greene's complaint of the " upstart crow" who had appeared among them 
" beautified with (their) feathers," though, in fact, Shakespeare had simply beautified 
their feathers. He cared little who should have the glory of the work, for none of 
all the exceedingly careless dramatists of that day were more careless of fame than 
he. Not a single original manuscript of any of his works remains; not a sonnet or 
a letter, even, in the handwriting of Shakespeare. Nothing but his will remains in 
manuscript. 



THE DRAMA. 



87 



Shakespeare's plays cannot be classed under the three dis- 
tinct heads of Tragedies, Comedies, Histories. Hamlet^ King 
Lear, and Macbeth are tragedies founded on semi-historical 
subjects; Muck Ado About Nothing and Taming of the Shreiv 
are distinctly comedies ; others are a mingling of the tragic and 
comic elements. The plays founded upon purely historic sub- 
jects are King John, Richard II., Henry IV., Henry V., Henry 
VI., Richard III., and Henry VIII. 

The sources from which Shakespeare obtained material for 
his plays are numerous. Holinshed and Hall seem to have 
furnished his historic information, while many of his plays de- 
rived from fictional sources are based upon old chronicles, 
Italian romances, and older plays. 

The first edition of Shakespeare's works, known as the Folio 
edition, was made in 1623, by Heminge and Condell. In this 
edition is prefixed a tribute of praise from Ben Jonson, from 
which the following lines are quoted : 

"Soule of the age, 
The applause ! delight ! the wonder of the stage. 

* ^ * * * -H- 

Thou art a moniment without a tombe. 

* * * -5^ ^ ^ ■ 

How far thou didst our Lily outshine 
Or sporting Kid, or Marlowe's mighty line. 
And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek, 
From thence to honor thee, I would not seek 
For names, but call forth thundering JEschilus, 
Euripides, and Sophocles to us. 
Paccuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, 
To life againe, to hear thy buskin treade 
And Shake-a-slage, or when thy socks are on 
Leave thee alone for the comparison 
Of all that insolent Greece, or haughtie Kome 
Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come. 
Triumph, my Britaine, thou hast one to showe 
To whom scenes of Europe homage owe. 
He was not for an age, but for all time. 
And all the Muses still were in their prime, 



88 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



When, like Apollo, he came forth to warme 
Our eares, or, like a Mercury, to charme I 
Nature, herself, was proud of his designs, 
And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines, 
Which were so richly spun, and woven to fit 
As since she will vouchsafe no other Wit. 
Yet must I not give Nature all. Thy Art, 
My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part, 
For though the poet's master Nature be, 
His art doth give the fashion. 

•X- * * -x- * ■ 

For a great Poet's made as well as borne. 
And such wert thou. Look how the father's face 
Lives in his issue ; even so the race 
Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly shines 
In his well formed and true filed lines. 
In each of which he seems to Shake-a-lance, 
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance. 
Sw^eet Swan of Avon ! what a sight it were 
To see thee in our waters yet appear, 
And make those flights upon the banks of Thames 
That so did take Eliza and our James. 

^6- -X- -H- * -H- 

Shine forth, thou Starre of Poets, and with rage 
Or influence, chide or cheere the drooping stage. 
Which since thy flight fro hence hath mourned like night 
And despaires day, but for thy volume's light. 

The death of Shakespeare left Ben Jonson (1573-1637) sov- 
ereign of the English stage. He had all the learning which 
Shakespeare is said to have lacked. He was, indeed, the most 
learned dramatist of the age, and did more than any other to 
give to the drama its proper direction. Without the genius of 
Shakespeare, he possessed a vigorous mind, and labored indus- 
triously in his vocation. A fine classical scholar, he tried to 
make the English drama conform to the rules of the Greek 
dramatists. His style is heavy, and shows study and labor. 
^Nothing is spontaneous, as in Shakespeare or Beaumont and 
Fletcher. 

His first original play, Evei^y Man in His Humor, was at first pro- 
nounced a failure and rejected by the manager of the theatre. But 
Shakespeare, it is said, being present and noticing the disappointment 



THE DRA3TA. 



89 



of the young dramatist, asked leave to look at the manuscript. He 
pronounced it good, suggested a few alterations, and promised that he 
would himself take a part to act."^ 

Following in rapid succession, came from the careful and 
laborious pen of Jonson numerous other plays — Every Man Out 
of his Hwnor^ Cynthia''s Bevels, and the Poetaster. The latter 
was a somewhat ill-natured reflection upon two of his brother 
dramatists, Marston and Dekker. The latter retaliated by a 
similar attack-upon Jonson, after which their sparring ceased, 
and we find them amicably writing together. 

Soon after the accession of James to the English throne, 
Jonson, with Marston and Chapman, brought out a comedy 
called Eastward Hoe. 

Some allusion in this play to the Scotch so incensed the King that the 
writers were thrown into prison and threatened with the loss of their 
ears and noses (a favorite chastisement of that day). 

During Elizabeth's reign Jonson received no more substantial benefit 
than the honor of her patronage, but at the accession of James the poet's 
fortune mended. He succeeded Daniel as poet-laureate, receiving for 
the office a hundred marks, and was appointed by the court to superin- 
tend the performance of Masques, which, under his careful guidance, 
were brought to the highest state of perfection. These entertainments 
were a species of dramatic performance much in favor at this time. 
They consisted of songs, dialogues, and dancing, and were always per- 
formed by the lords and ladies of the court, frequently the King and 
Queen taking part. These masques were brilliant in costumes and 
scenery, and were generally performed in honor of some great event in 
the royal household. The arrangement of these court entertainments 
was the duty of the poet-laureate. Some of Jonson's most poetic fan- 
cies are contained in his Masques. 

Of the fifty dramatic pieces composed by Ben Jonson, thirty- 
five were Masques and Court Entertainments. In his last work, 
a pastoral drama called the Sad Shepherd, some of the finest of 
his poetic fancies are displayed. Jonson's two classic tragedies 
are The Fall of Sejanus and Catiline''s Conspiracy. His princi- 
pal comedies were. Every Man in His Humor, Volpone, Epicoene, 
or The Silent Womayi, and The Alchemist. 

It is difficult to estimate the character of Jonson. That his disagree- 



* He represented, we are told, the cliaracter of Knowell. 

8* 



90 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



able habit of boasting made him unpopular with his contemporaries can 
plainly be seen by some of the comments on his conversation which 
have been preserved. Yet that he possessed a warm, honest heart, full 
of human sympathies, is equally plain. It can only be inferred that 
this one unfortunate habit concealed the best portion of his nature, re- 
pelling instead of winning intimate companionship. 

Jonson was buried in Westminster Abbey. A plain slab was 
placed upon his grave, on which was inscribed 
! rare Ben Jonson."// 

The names of Francis Beaumont (1586-1616) and John Fletcher 
(1576-1625) are inseparably connected -in literature. Associated by the 
warmest ties of friendship, they labored jointly in the production of 
their dramatic works.* 

So close was their literary partnership, that it is not easy to distin- 
guish the respective productions of these two writers. That Beaumont 
had more tragic genius, and Fletcher more of the comic humor, is 
generally conceded. 

Brilliant and exuberant in poetic fancy, their plays are marred by 
gross indecencies. Both poets were servile courtiers to James I., sup- 
porting his belief in the divine right of kings. 

Among the fifty-two dramatic works of these two writers, are. Rule a 
Wife and Have a Wife, The Woman Hater, The Knight of the Burning 
Pestle, The Beggar's Bush, The Honest Man's Fortune, and The Faithful 
Shepherdess. The latter p^ay was written by Fletcher, as were many 
that passed under the name of Beaumont and Fletcher's. 

Philip Massinger (1584-1640), who lived an obscure life and died 
in poverty, was a writer of rare grace and dignity. He was destitute, 
however, of genuine humor, so that his comedies are heavy. Violating 
his own natural tastes and instincts, he introduced into his plays, for the 
sake of humoring the popular taste, much that is coarse and indecent. 
His tragedies are characterized by dignified and lofty sentiments. 

The most popular of Massinger's works are The Virgin Martyr, The 
City Madam, The Bondman, The Fatal Dowry, and A New Way to Pay 
Old Debts.f 

* "They lived together," says Aubrey, "on the Bankside, not far from the play- 
house ; both bachelors — had one bench of the house between them, which they did 
so admire — the same cloathes, cloakes, etc." 

t Massinger was as republican in principle as Beaumont and Fletcher were sub- 
servient to the King. In one of his dramas, called the King and the Subject, written 
in the reign of Charles I., during the disputes concerning ship-money, this passage 
was found: 



TEE DRAMA. 



91 



Massinger died suddenly at his obscure home at Bankside, South- 
wark, and was buried in the quiet churchyard. The only record of his 
death is found in the parish register : 

" Buried, Philip Massinger, a Stranger." 

John Ford (1586-1639) was the poet of melancholy, and his finest 
tragedy, the Broken Heart, is a type of his prevailing mood. 

One of his contemporaries gives us a portrait of the man : 
" Deep in a dump, John Ford by himself sat, 
With folded arms, and melancholy hat." 

Besides the JBroJcen Heart, Ford wrote The Brother and Sister, The 
Lover's Melancholy, Love's Sacrifice, and Perkin Warbeck, one of the best 
historic dramas after Shakespeare. 

John Webster ( 1654), another of the minor dramatists of this 

time, dealt in terrors, as Ford dealt in pathos. His principal tragedies 
are : The Duchess of Malfi, The White Devil, The Devil's Law Case., Appius 
and Virginia, and Ouise, or the Massacre of France. Two comedies. West- 
ward Ho / and Northward Ho ! written by Webster in conjunction with 
Dekker ( 1641), throw much light on the manners of the time. 

To sum up the remaining Elizabethan dramatists. Chapman, Mid- 
DLETON, Marston, Dekker, Heywood, Eowley, Lodge, and 
Shirley — in the language of Mr. E. P. Whipple : They are all 
intensely and audaciously human. Taking them in the mass, they 
have much to offend our artistic and shock our moral sense ; but the 
dramatic literature of the world would be searched in vain for an- 
other instance of so broad and bold a representation of the varieties 
of human nature — one in which the conventional restraints both on 
depravity and excellence are so resolutely set aside — one in which 
the many-charactered soul of man is so vividly depicted, in its weak- 
ness and in its strength, in its mirth and in its passion, in the appetites 
which sink it below the beasts that perish, in the aspirations which 
lift it to regions of existence of which the visible heavens are but the 
veil." 

The Elizabethan drama ends with James Shirley (1594-1666). 
In 1642, at the breaking out of the Civil War, the theatres were 



" Moneys ? we '11 raise supplies which way we please, 

And force you to subscribe to blanks, in which 

We '11 mulct you as we shall think fit." 
The drama was rejected by the Master of the Revels, and when it was shown to the 
King, he marked the above passage, saying, " This is too insolent, and to be changed." 



92 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



closed, and in 1648 an act of Parliament was passed making 
all theatrical performances illegal. This ordinance remained 
in force until the restoration, in 1660. 

Prose Writers of the Elizabethan Period. 
FRANCIS BACON. 

The prose literature of Elizabeth's time was as exuberant in 
expression and almost as rich in fancy as poetry itself. Al- 
though the writers were less numerous, they probably added as 
much force and grace to the literature of that period as the 
poets and dramatists. 

Frajtcis Bacon (1561-1626) was born at York House, a 
stately mansion in London, on the 22d of January, 1561. His 
father, Sir Nicholas Bacon, was Lord Keeper of the Great Seal 
of England, and his mother was one of the most brilliant 
women in the court of Elizabeth. The boy was trained to 
courtly magnificence, and early learned to reverence crowned 
heads. He was a born and bred courtier, and his high-bred 
reply to Elizabeth, when a boy of twelve, on being asked his 
age, "I am two years younger than your Majesty's happy 
reign," was the language and the feeling to which he was ac- 
customed. At thirteen he was sent to Cambridge, and from 
this period his intellectual career is dated. 

Notwithstanding the progress of learning in this age and the 
preceding, the study of actual science had made no advance 
whatever. At Cambridge and Oxford the old scholastic philos- 
ophy of the Middle Ages still prevailed, which was not the 
philosophy of Aristotle, but a perversion of his methods, which 
had been adapted in the earlier stages of Christianity to the 
creeds of the Church. 

The youth, Francis Bacon, felt the barrenness of this "phil- 
osophy of words," and early set to work to form methods of 
investigation that would result in some definite knowledge for 
the benefit of mankind. The method of "induction," or the 
inferring of a general truth from the examination of particular 
facts leading up to it, was not original with Bacon, for the old 
Greek philosophers had been familiar with the method, but he 
demonstrated its use to the seventeenth century. He believed 



PROSE WRITERS OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 93 

that by it "nature could be compelled to yield her secrets" to 
the searcher after truth. 

Bacon left Cambridge without taking a degree, and at the 
age of sixteen was fjent by his father to France. Here he 
hoped to pursue a course of scholarly studies, but the sudden 
death of his father obliged the son to return at once to Eng- 
land, where, in his own words, he was now forced "to think 
how to live, instead of living only to think," for the family 
was left comparatively poor. Bacon's uncle. Lord Burleigh 
(William Cecil), was then Lord Treasurer, and, in fact, Eliza- 
beth's Prime Minister. To him Bacon appealed for help or 
patronage in securing some political office, but Burleigh was 
ambitious that his own son, Kobert Cecil, should succeed him 
in his high office, and seeing the rare talents of his nephew, 
feared that if he should open to him even the smallest door of 
political favor, he would make such rapid advances as to en- 
tirely overshadow his own less gifted son. Already the Queen 
had called him her young Lord Keeper, and bad regarded him 
with favor, therefore in Burleigh's mind he was to be watched 
with a jealous eye. 

Bacon's only resource was the study of law, to which he ap- 
plied himself for six years, and by attaching himself to the 
cause of Essex, the Queen's favorite and the enemy of the 
Cecils, gained a slight footing in political favor. This step 
was probably the undoing of his life, for, baffled in his de- 
sire to become "the minister and interpreter of nature," he 
now bent his powerful mind to his own political advancement, 
and though in Elizabeth's time he only obtained a slight pro- 
motion as a Queen's Counsel, in the reign of her successor his 
highest ambition was fulfilled, when he became successively So- 
licitor and Attorney General, then Privy Councillor, then Lord 
Keeper, and finally Lord High Chancellor of England. With 
the last honor he received also the title of Baron Verulam, 
and in a few years after the additional title of Yiscount St. 
Albans. 

This rapid advancement was in the reign of James I., and it 
is a humiliating fact that it was mainly obtained by condescen- 
sions on the }.art of the great man to the base spirit of the 
time — to unscrupulous acquiescence in the wishes and schemes. 



94 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



of the King's favorite, Buckingham. For six years no Par- 
Hament had been called, and during this time corruptions 
were increasing. The Lord High Chancellor was not only con- 
scious of their existence, but participated in them, and al- 
though in possession of a princely revenue, he added to his 
fortune by the acceptance of bribes. 

Parliament met, and in 1621 accused Bacon of corruption in 
the high office he held. He plead guilty to the charge in these 
words : " I do plainly and ingenuously confess that I am guilty 
of corruption, and do renounce all defence. I beseech your 
lordships to be merciful to a broken reed." Like Wolsej^, his 
high-blown pride at length broke under him. He was declared 
incapable of public office, was sentenced to a fine of £40,000, 
and to an imprisonment during the pleasure of the King. The 
sentence, however, was remitted, and after two days' imprison- 
ment in the Tower he was set at liberty, and the fine was trans- 
muted into a pension of .£1200 a year ! 

It was during Bacon's political life that he wrote T7ie Ad- 
vancement of Learning., The Novum Organum^ and the Wisdom 
of the Ancients, the first two being parts of his great work, the 
Instauration of the Sciences. The year after his fall from power 
he produced another part of his great work, and still it re- 
mained uncompleted. 

It was the work that Bacon planned to do, rather than the 
work he accomplished, which shows his greatness. His com- 
prehensive mind conceived a project so vast that a lifetime was 
not sufficient to execute it. He " took all knowledge for his 
province." 

Bacon's Essays were his first published works. These were 
written in English, and show a mastery of thought and diction. 
Not elaborate in style, as the writings of others of his time, 
but the reverse. All had been elaborated in his OAvn mind, and 
came forth crystallized and perfect, the greatest possible con- 
densation of thought. He expresses himself by symbols, as 
when he says, " Eiches are the baggage of virtue— the impede- 
menta." Not only are his Essays written in this epigrammatic 
style, but most of his scientific works. His Novum Orgamim is 
a succession of aphorisms. It was his theory that all works of 
science should be expressed in this manner, and certainly all 



PROSE WRITERS OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 95 



truths find more forcible utterance in the brief, condensed sen- 
tence, showing energetic, vigorous thought. 

Bacon's Essays abound in moral precepts, and form a strange 
discrepancy with the example of his life, as we see it. The 
Essays are short— some of them would not fill an ordinary 
page — but all of them are models of thought and expression. 
He had the soul of a poet, and it was the poet's imagination 
which led him into his scientific questionings. His Essay on 
Adversitj^ is the essence of poetry. 

At the close of the second book on the Advancement of Learn- 
ing., he says : 

" And now looking back upon that I have passed through, this writ- 
ing seemeth to me not much better than the noise or sound which mu- 
sicians make while they are tuning their instruments, which is nothing 
pleasant to hear, but yet is a cause why tlie music is sweeter afterwards. 
So have I been content to tune the instruments of the muses, that they 
may play that have better hands." 

Most of Bacon's works were written in Latin, the curious 
idea existing that that language was to supersede the English. 
This was owing, doubtless, to the prevailing enthusiasm for the 
study of the classic languages. An evidence of this curious 
belief may be seen in the following letter of Bacon to his trans- 
lator. It was concerning his work entitled the Advancement of 
Learning, which had been written originally in the English lan- 
guage. He says : 

" Wherefore, as I have only taken upon me to ring a bell to bring 
other wits together, it cannot but be consonant to my desire to have that 
bell heard as far as can be. And, therefore, the privateness of the lan- 
guage considered in which it is written, excluding so many readers, I 
must account it a second birth of that work, if it might be translated 
into Latin, without manifest loss of the sense and matter." 

Besides the works already named, Bacon wrote a History of 
Henry VII., also a work entitled Felicities of Queen Elizabeth'' s 
Reign, and a philosophical romance called the New Atlantis. 

After Bacon's humiliation he retired to private life — to study 
and investigate. But his habits of extravagance clung to him 
to the last, and although he received a yearly income of £2500, 
at his death his personal debts were more than i£22,000. He 



96 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



died, it is supposed, a victim to scientific investigation, com- 
paring himself to the elder Pliny. In his will this prophetic 
passage occurs: ''•My name and memory I leave to foreign na- 
tions^ and to mine own country^ when some time be passed over.'''' 

Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) was a philosophical writer, belonging 
properly to the succeeding period, yet contributing to the literature of 
the time of Bacon. His principal work, the Leviathan, is a vindication 
of despotism, or a justification of monarchical government. His opin- 
ions exercised great influence on the Continent, and gave an impulse to 
the metaphysical and political philosophy of England. 

To this imaginative age may be traced the germ of the English novel. 
We have already seen it in the story of JEuphues, written by John Lyly, 
and in a still more marked degree we shall see it in the Arcadia of Sir 
Philip Sidney, a romance, which in the circles of leisure at that early 
day was read with as much pleasure as the popular novels of to-day are 
read by the literary public. 

The life of Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586) has been of more inter- 
est and more benefit to the world than his writings. That short life of 
thirty-two years taught to succeeding generations the meaning of the 
terms, "true knight" and "gentleman." He defined a gentleman as 
one having "high erected thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy," 
and exemplified it in his life. Even his last act was one of self-de- 
nial, and though the story has been so often told, it is one that will bear 
repeating. England was assisting the Netherlands to throw ofif the yoke 
of Spain, and Sidney had been sent as general of the horse. At the 
battle of Zutphen he bore himself manfully, and his deeds of valor 
would have placed his name high on the roll of heroes ; but it is to no 
warlike deed, but to one of Christian charity, that his admirers revert 
with fondest memory. Mortally wounded on the battle-field, he begged 
for water to allay his feverish thirst. As the cooling draught was being 
lifted to his lips he saw a poor, dying soldier carried past, who looked 
longingly at the water. Sidney, seeing the eager look, said, " Take it. 
Thy necessity is greater than mine." 

The Arcadia was not intended by Sidney for publication, but was 
written for the entertainment of his beloved sister, the Countess of Pem- 
broke. It is somewhat affected with the fashionable Euphuistic style, 
but contains some exquisite passages, fully entitling Sidney to be termed, 
as Cowper termed him, " a warbler of poetic prose." 

Sidney's best work is the Defence of Poesy. It may take its rank 
among the first specimens of cxiticism in the English language. It 



PROSE WRITERS OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 97 



holds up to view the rare poets of his own and former days, and shows 
the nobler purposes of poetry. His poetical works consist of sonnets 
and songs, which were collected under the title of Astrophel and Stella. 
These songs commemorate his unfortunate attachment to a lady whom 
he styled "Stella." — "Astrophel" was himself.* None of Sidney's 
works were published until after his death. 

Sir Walter Ealeigh (1552-1618), the friend of Sidney and of 
Spenser, was one of the brilliant luminaries of Elizabeth's court. His 
life was as eventful as that of any fancied knight in Spenser's Faerie 
Queen. His fame, however, belongs rather to the political than to the 
I literary history of England. A genuine courtier, he established him- 
j self forever in Elizabeth's favor by throwing his velvet cloak over the 
} mud in her pathway, and little occurred to disturb his serenity until 
James's accession to the throne. Then Ealeigh's troubles began. Ac- 
cused of treason, he was condemned to die, but was afterwards reprieved 
and sent to the Tower for an imprisonment of twelve years. During 
this time he employed his ever active genius in writing one of the most 
remarkable works of the age — A History of the World. 

Eeleased from prison, this admirable adventurer was sent in search 
of gold to fill the depleted cotfers of King James. Eeturning, he was 
again thrown into prison on an unwarrantable pretext, and soon after 
was executed on the old charge of treason. His dignified behavior on 

' the scaffold has often been told. Taking the axe from the executioner, 
and running his fingers along its keen edge, he exclaimed, "It is a 
sharp medicine, but it cures all diseases." Then laying his head upon 
the block, he said, " It matters little which way the head lies, so the heart 

:| be right."! 

' A curious, hypochondriacal writer of this time, was Egbert Burton 
I (1576-1640), whose Anatomy of Melancholy is a quaint compound of 
: i learning and sombre reflections. 

Theologians. 

In Theology, the greatest writer of the Elizabethan age was 
RiCHAKD Hooker (1553-1600), whose great work, The Ecclesias- 
tical Polity, is one of the masterpieces of English prose. It is 



* Spenser's elegy on the death of Sidney was called Astrophel. 
t Much of Raleigh's time in prison was spent in the study of alchemy, in pursuit 
of the philosopher's stone, which search was still in vogue at that tirt^e. 

9 Q. 



98 ^ISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



a defence of the church of England against the attacks of 
Puritanism. 

The title of Puritan was first given in 1564 to the dissenters 
from the established church. Various degrees of puritanism 
existed. There were those who wished greater reforms than 
the Episcopal church embodied ; those who wished for the en- 
tire abolition of episcopacy ; and still others who desired no 
church government whatever. 

Amidst this sea of controversy arose the great champion of 
the church of England, Richard Hooker, not, however, in 
the spirit of disputation, for he especially avoided contention. 

" I am weary " he siays, " of the noise and opposition of this place ; 
and, indeed God and nature did not intend me for contentions, but for 
study and quietness." * 

He completed the great work already begun, which occupied eight 
volumes. The appearance of so great a work as the Ecclesiastical 
Polity was an era in theological literature in England. Previous to 
this, it had been " a hterature of pamphlets." 

In Scotland, at this time, John Knox (1505-1572), as the 
founder of Presbyterianism in that country, was the most 
prominent figure. His cliief works are a History of the Bef- 
ormation in Scotland^ and The First Blast of the Trumpet 
against the Monstrous Begiment of Women. This work was 
published the year Elizabeth ascended the throne, in 1558, 
but was aimed at Mary Queen of Scots and Mary Tudor, the 
half-sister of EUzabeth. 

John Fox (1517-1587) lived in Elizabeth's time. His Book of 
Martyrs met with such high approval that every parish church in 
England was ordered to have a copy for public perusal. 

Translators of the Bible. 

In the reign of James I. the Authorized Yersion of the 
Bible was made. "Forty-seven persons in six companies, 
meeting at Westminster, Oxford, and Cambridge, distributed 
the labor among themselves ; twenty-five being assigned to the 



* Tradition has handed down to us the fact that this peace-loving man was harassed 
by a wife more shrewish than Xantippe, 



TRANSLATORS. 



99 



Old Testament, fifteen to the New, seven to the Apocrypha. 
The rules imposed for their guidance by the king were de- 
signed, as far as possible, to secure the text against any novel 
interpretation ; the translation called the Bishops' Bible, being 
established as the basis, as those still older had been in that ; 
and the work of each person or company being subjected to the 
review of the rest. The translation, which was commenced in 
1607, was published in 1611." * 

Other Translators. 

Among some of the trq,nslators of other works, three take foremost 
rank. George Chapman (1557-1634), already mentioned among the 
Dramatists, is known far better for his fine translation of Homer's 
Iliad, than which there has scarcely been anything better to this day. 
Keats says : 

"Yet did I never breathe its pure serene 
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold; 
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies 
When a new planet swims across his ken." 

Edwin Fairfax in 1600 translated the Jerusalem of Tasso, a con- 
temporary Italian poet, who died in 1595. 

Sir John Harrington (1661-1612) translated the Orlando Furioso 
of Ariosto, another Italian poet who died earlier in the same century. 

In 1603 John Florio translated the Essays of Montaigne, a con- 
temporary French writer, read afterwards, we are told, by Shakespeare, 
and exercising a marked influence upon later English literature. 

Historians of the Elizabethan Age. 

CAMDEN, STOW, HOLINSHED, SPEED. 

Until this period the English writers of history had scarcely created 
for themselves the title of Historians, but the spirit of this active age 
promoted inquiry, and the old traditions which had been followed im- 
plicitly by preceding chroniclers began to be doubted. Research re- 
vealed truth, and the old fables of Geoffrey of Monmouth ceased to be 
the basis of English history. There were, however, exceptions, and 
HoLiNSHED in 1578 gravely repeats for fact the legend of Brutus the 



* Hallam's Literature of Europe. 



100 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Trojan founder of the British line of kings, together with all the cher- 
ished fables of the old chroniclers, only a few of which he presumes to 
doubt. Shakespeare was a diligent reader of these old chronicles. 

The learned but humble antiquarian, WiLiiiAM Camden (1551- 
1633), was a more judicious and critical historian. Disregarding the 
old legends of his predecessors, "he blew away," says Speed, "sixty 
British kings with one blast." 

John Speed (1590-1629) also rejected the belief in the descent of 
the British from the Trojans, and exhorts his countrymen to " disclaim 
that which bringeth no honor to so renowned a nation." 

The chronicles or histories of John Stow (1525-1605) are praised 
for their research and accuracy. 

KiCHAED Hakluyt's (1553-1616) histories chiefly commemorate 
naval achievements of his countrymen. 

Before closing this illustrious period, it may be well to glance 
at the validity of the pretensions which Elizabeth and James 
made to the title of author. Elizabeth's assumption of beauty 
was scarcely more unfounded than her claim to literary dis- 
tinction. But anything to show that she had a soft and wo- 
manly side to her seemingly hard nature is worth preserving, and 
the following are lines written on the state of her own feelings 
on the departure of some one for whom she evidently had a 
tender regard : 

" I grieve, and dare not show my discontent ; 
I love, and yet am forced to seem to hate ; 
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant ; 

I seem stark mute, yet inwardly do prate. 

* * -Sfr * * * 

Some gentler passions slide into my mind. 

For I am soft and made of melting snow, 
Or be more cruel. Love, and so be kind. 
Let me or float or sink, be high or low. 
Or let me live with some more sweet content. 
Or die, and so forget what love e'er meant." 

The pretensions of James I. to literary distinction were some- 
what better founded. He wrote various serious treatises, 
mainly on theological subjects, the best known of which is the 
Basilicon JDoron, consisting of advice to his son, Prince Henry, 



LITERATURE OF TBE ELIZABETHAN AGE, 101 



who died. There were several other prose works and some 
verses, but none of them are of any value to literature. 

Long before the reign of James was ended, new thoughts and 
feelings were taking root in the minds and consciences of men. 
The divine rights of kings was questioned, and in the reign of 
Charles I. the right of religious liberty was demanded. The 
beacon-light kindled on old Plymouth Rock shone back across 
the waters, giving new courage to sinking hearts in the far-off 
mother country. A new era was dawning upon England. Its 
effect upon Uterature will be seen in the following chapter.* 

Illustrations of the Literature of the Elizabethan 
Period. 

— »o><^:oc — 

EDMUND SPENSER. 

Prom The Paerie Queen. 
'Book J., Canto 1. 
I. 

A gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine, 
Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde, 
Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine, 
The cruel markes of many' a bloody fielde; 
Yet armes till that time did he never wield: 
His angry steede did chide his foming bitt, 
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield : 
Full iolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt, 
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt. 

-K- -5$- * * 

III. 

Upon a great adventure he was bond, 
That greatest Gloriana to him gave 



* It is difficult, in marking periods of literature, to draw any exact dividing line. 
In the chapter just concluded, many who were still prominent at the close of the 
period were also conspicuous in MUton's time, and Milton is often alluded to as the 
last of the Elizabethan poets. He was likewise contemporary with Dryden's early 
life. It seems more appropriate, however, to assign to Milton a separate period, and 
none is more fitting than the republican period of England's history, to which he 
gave the concentrated energy of his life. 
9* 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



(That greatest glorious queene of Faerie lond), 
To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have, 
Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave: 
And ever, as he rode, his hart did earne 
To prove his puissance in battell brave 
Upon his foe, and his new force to learne; 
Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne. 

IV. 

A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside, 
Upon a lowly asse more white then snow : 
Yet she much whiter; but the same did hide 
Under a vele, that whimpled was full low ; 
And over all a blacke stole shee did throw: 
As one that inly mournd, so was she sad. 
And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow; 
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had; 
And by her in a line a milke-white lamb she lad. 

■55- * ■${• * 

From Booh L, Canto 3. 
IV. 

One day, nigh wearie of the yrkesome way, 
From her unhastie beast she did alight; 
And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay 
In secrete shadow, far from all men's sight ; 
From her fayre head her fillet she undight. 
And layd her stole aside: Her angel's face, 
As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright. 
And make a sunshine in the shady place; 
Did ever mortall eye behold such heavenly grace? 

V. 

It fortuned, out of the thickest wood 
A ramping lyon rushed suddeinly. 
Hunting full greedy after salvage blood : 
Soone as the royall Virgin he did spy. 
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily, 
To have att once devourd her tender corse: 
But to the pray when as he drew more ny, 
His bloody rage aswaged with remorse. 
And, with the sight amazed, forgat his furious forse. 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 103 



VI. 

Instead thereof lie kist her wearie feet, 
And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong; 
As he her wronged innocence did weet. 
O how can beautie maister the most strong, 
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong! 
Whose yielded pryde and proud submission. 
Still dreading death, when she had marked long, 
Her hart gan melt in great compassion; 

And drizling teares did shed for pure affection. 

****** 

IX. 

The lyon would not leave her desolate, 
But with her went along, as a strong gard 
Of her chast person, and a faythfuU mate 
Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: 
Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward ; 
And, when she wakt, he wayted diligent, 
With humble service to her will prepard: 
From her fayre eyes he took commandement, 
And ever by her lookes conceived her intent. 



From the Shepherd's Calendar. 

This poem is here presented in modern language. In its original form 
it is as antiquated as the Faerie Queene. 

AUGUST. 

Aegloga Octava. — Argument. 

In this Aeglogue is set forth a delectable controversy, made in imitation of that 
in Theocritus : whereto Virgil fashioned his third and seventh Aeglogue. 
The Shepherds chose for umpire of their strife Cuddie, a neatherd's boy, 
who, having ended their cause, reciteth also, himself, a proper song, whereof 
Colin, he saith, was author. 

Willie — Perigot — Cuddie. 

W. — Tell me, Perigot, what shall be the game, 

Wherfor with mine thou dare thy music match ? 
Or be thy bagpipes run far out of frame? 

Or hath the cramp thy joints benumb'd with ache? 



104 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



P. — Ah ! Willie, when the heart is ill assay' d, 
How can bagpipe or joints be well apaid? 
Love hath misled both my younglings and me; 
I pine for pain, and they, my pain to see. 

W. — Pardie and well-away ! ill may they thrive ; 

Never knew I lover's sheep in good plight: 
But an' if in rhymes with me thou dare strive 
Such fond fantasies shall soon be put to flight. 
* * -H- -x- 

But, for the sunbeam so sore doth us beat. 
Were it not better to shun the scorching heat? 
P. — Well, agreed, Willie? then sit thee down, swain. 

Such a song never heard'st thou but Colin sing. 

Cuddle. — 'Gin where ye list, ye jolly shepherds twain ; 

Such a judge as Cuddie, were for a king. 

P. — It fell upon a holy eve, 

W. — Hey, ho, holy-day ! 
P. — When holy Fathers went to shrieve ; 

W. — Now ginneth this roundelay. 
P. — Sitting upon a hill so high, 

W. — Heigh, ho, the high hill. 
P. — I saw the bouncing Bellibone,^ 

TT.— Hey, ho, Bonnibell ! 
P. — Tripping over the dale alone; 

W. — She can trip it very well. 
P. — Well decked in a frock of gray, 

W. — Hey, ho, gray is greet ! ^ 
P. — And in a kirtle of green say,^ 

W. — The green is for maidens meet, 
P. — A chaplet on her head she wore, 

W. — Hey, ho, chapelet ! 
P. — Of sweet violets — therein was store;- 

W. — She sweeter than the violet. 
P. — My sheep did leave their wonted food, 

W. — Hey, ho, seely sheep ! 
P. — And gazed on her as they were wood,* 

W. — Wood* as he that did them keep. 



1 Belle et bonne (fair and good). 

2 Sorrow. 3 silk. 



The same as bounibell. 
4 Mad, 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 106 



P. — As the bonny lass passed by, 

W. — Hey, ho, bonny lass ! 
P. — She rov'd at me with glancing eye, 

W. — As clear as the crystal glass. 
P. — The glance into my heart did glide, 

W. — Hey, ho, the glider ! 
P. — Therewith my soul was sharply gride,^ 

W. — Such wounds soon waxen wider. 
P. — Hasting to wrench the arrow out, 

W. — Hey, ho, Perigot ! 
P. — I left the head in my heart-root, 

W. — It was a desperate shot. 
P. — And if for graceless grief I die, 

W. — Hey, ho, graceless grief! 
P. — Witness she slew me with her eye, 

W. — Let thy folly be the prief,^ 
P. — And you that saw it, simple sheep, 

W. — Hey, ho, the fair flock ! 
P. — For prief thereof, my death shall weep, 

W. — And moan with many a mock. 
P. — So learn' d I love on a holy eve, 

W. — Hey, ho, holy day ! 
P. — That ever since my heart did grieve, 

W. — Now endeth our roundelay. 
Cuddie. — Sicker, such a roundel never heard I none, 
Little lacketh Perigot of the best. 
And Willie is not greatly overgone; 
• So well his undersongs weren addrest. 

MICHAEL DRAYTON. 

From The Bali^ad of Agincourt.* 

Fair stood the wind for France 
When we our sails advance. 
Nor now to prove our chance 
Longer will tarry; 

But putting to the main, 

At Kause, the mouth of Seine, 

With all his martial train, 

Landed King Harry. 



1 Pierced. 



2 Proof. 



* The poem consists of fifteen stanzes. 



106 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

And taking many a fort, 
Furnished in warlike sort, 
Marched towards Agincourt 
In happy hour; 

Skirmishing day by day 
With those that stopp'd his way, 
Where the French general lay 
With all his power. 

From The Soul's Errand.* 

This poem has been ascribed to various authors, but is now believed to 
have been written by Sir Walter Raleigh. 

Go, Soul, the Body's guest, 

Upon a thankless errand; 
Fear not to touch the best; 

The truth shall be thy warrant. 
Go, since I needs must die, 

And give them all the lie. 

Go, tell the Court it glows, 

And shines like painted wood; 
Go, tell the Church it shows 

What 's good, but does no good. 
If Court and Church reply, 

Give Court and Church the lie. 

SHAKESPEARE. • 

From KoMEO and Juliet. 

O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou Romeo ? 
Deny thy father and refuse thy name. 

^ * ^ % ^ ¥: 

What's in a name? that which we call a rose, 

By any other name would smell as sweet. — Act IL, Sc. S. 

The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night. 
Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light. 

Act IL, Sc. 3. 

Come, civil night, 

Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, — Act III., Sc. 2. 



* The poem consists of thirteen stanzas. 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 107 



It was the lark, the herald of the morn, 
No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks 
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: 
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day 
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. — Act III., Sc. 5. 

From As You Like It. 

Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, 
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious court? 
Here we feel but the penalty of Adam, 
The season's difference ; as the icy fang. 
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; 
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — 
This is no flattery: these are counsellors 
That feelingly persuade me what I am. 
SAveet are the uses of adversity. 
Which, like a toad, ugly and venomous. 
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; — 
And this, our life, exempt from public haunts, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything. — Act II., Sc. 1. 

All the world's a stage. 
And all the men and women merely players: 
They have their exits and their entrances; 
And one man in his time plays many parts. 
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms: 
And then, the whining school-boy with his satchel, 
And shining morning-face, creeping like snail 
Unwillingly to school : And then the lover ; 
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad 
Made to his mistress' eyebrow : Then, a soldier : 
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel. 
Seeking the bubble reputation 

Even in the cannon's mouth : And then, the justice ; 
In fair round belly, with good capon lined. 
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 



108 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Full of wise saws and modern instances, 
And so he plays his part: The sixth age shifts 
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon; 
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side: 
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide 
For his shrunk shank : and his big manly voice, 
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes 
And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all, 
That ends this strange eventful history, 
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion: 
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 

Act IL, Sc. 7. 

Truly I would the gods had made thee poetical. — Act III., Sc. 3. 

Break an hour's promise in love ? He that will divide a minute into 
a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a 
minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath 
clapp'd him o' the shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole. 

Act IV., Sc. 1. 

From Much Ado About Nothing. 
Here you may see Benedick the married man. — Act I., Sc. 1. 

Don Pedro. — Good signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble : 
the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it. 

Leonato. — Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your 
grace ; for trouble being gone, comfort should remain ; but when you 
depart from me, sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave. 

Act I., Sc. 2. 

Dogberry. — To be a well-favored man is the gift of fortune, but to 
write and read comes by nature ! — Act III., Sc. 3. 



From Midsummer-Night's Dream. 

Bottom. — Let me play the lion too : I will roar, that 
I will do any man's heart good to hear me; 
I will roar, that I will make the duke say, 
Let him roar again, Let him roar again. 
Quince. — And you should do it too terribly, you would fright the 
duchess and the ladies. 

* 45- ^ * * * 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 109 



Bottom. — But I will aggravate my voice so, that 

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove : 

I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. — Act I., Sc. 2. 

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet. 
Are of imagination all compact ; 

* -X- * * -H- 

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling. 

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven. 

And, as imagination bodies forth 

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 

Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing 

A local habitation and a name. — Act F., Sc. 1. 

From Merchant of Venice. 

His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : 
you shall seek all day ere you find them ; and when you have them, 
they are not worth the search. — Act I., Sc. 1. 

So may the outward shows be least themselves ; 
The world is still deceived with ornament. 
In law what plea so tainted and corrupt. 
But, being season' d with a gracious voice. 
Obscures the show of evil? In religion, 
What dangerous error, but some sober brow 
Will bless it, and approve it with a text. 
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? 
There is no vice so simple, but assumes 
Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. — Act III., Sc. 2. 

The quality of mercy is not strain' d ; 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless'd ; 
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. 
'T is mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown; 
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majesty, 
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings, 
^ut mercy is above the sceptr'd sway ; 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings; 
It is an attribute to God himself; 
And earthly power doth then show likest God's 
10 



110 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 
Though justice be thy plea, consider this — 
That, in the course of justice, none of us 
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; 
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. — Act IV., Sc. 1. 

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank. 
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
* * * Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlaid with patins of bright gold ; 
There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
But in his motion like an angel sings. 
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims: 
Such harmony is in immortal souls; 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. — Act V., Sc. 1. 

How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So shines a good deed in a naughty world. — Act F., Sc. 1. 

From Twelfth Night. 

That strain again ; — it had a dying fall ; 
Oh ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet south 
That breathes upon a bank of violets. 
Stealing and giving odor. — Act /., Sc. 1. 

She sat, like Patience on a monument, 
Smiling at grief. — Act IL, Sc. 4. 

Some are born great ; some achieve greatness, and some have great- 
ness thrust upon them. — Act II., Sc. 5. 

rrom King John. 

To me and to the state of my great grief, 
Let kings assemble ; for my grief's so great 
That no supporter but the huge, firm earth ^ 
Can hold it up; here I and sorrow sit; 
Here is my throne ; bid kings come bow to it. 

Ad III, Sc. 1. 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. Ill 



To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 

To throw a perfume on the violet, 

To smooth the ice, or add another hue • 

Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, 

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. — Act IV., Sc. 2. 

From Julius Caesak. 

But 't is a common proof 
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder. 
Whereto the climber upward turns his face; 
But when he once attains the upmost round, 
He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend. So Caesar may; 
Then, lest he may, prevent. — Act IL, Sc. 1. 

O conspiracy ! 
Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night 
When evils are most free ? Oh, then, by day. 
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 
To mask thy monstrous visage ? — Act II., Sc. 1. 

Let us be sacrificers, but no butchers, Caius. 
We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar, 
And in the spirit of men there is no blood. 

Act IL, Sc. 1. 

You are my true and honorable wife ; 
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops 
That visit my sad heart. — Act II, Sc. 1. 

Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
The valiant never taste of death but once. — Act IL, Sc. 2. 

O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low? 
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils. 
Shrunk to this little measure ? — Act III., Sc.. 1. 

Are yet two Romans living such as these? — 

The last of all the Eomans, fare thee well ! 

It is impossible that e\^n Rome 

Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears 

To this dead man, than you shall see me pay. 

'M F.J Sc. 3, 



112 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



This was the noblest Eoman of them all ; 
All the conspirators, save only he, 
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; 
He only in a general honest thought. 
And common good to all, made one of them. 
His life was gentle, and the elements 
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up 
And say to all the world, This was a man ! — Act V., Sc. 5. 

From Macbeth. 
When shall we three meet again ? — Act I., Sc. 1. 

Come, what come may, — 
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. 

Act Z, Sc. 3. 

What thou wouldst highly, 
That thou wouldst holily ; wouldst not play false. 
And yet wouldst wrongly win. — Act L, Sc. 5. 

Letting 1 dare not, wait upon Ivjould. — Act I., Sc. 7. 

But screw your courage to the sticking-place, 
And we '11 not fail.— Act I., Sc. 7. 

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten 
This little hand.— .4c^ V., Sc. 1. 

My May of life 
Is fallen into the sere and yellow leaf. — Act V., Sc. 3. 

Hang out our banners on the outward walls; 
The cry is still, They come ! Our castle's strength 
Will laugh a siege to scorn. — Act V., Sc. 5. 

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. 
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
To the last syllable of recorded time ; 
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! 
Life 's but a walking shadow : a poor player. 
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage 
And then is heard no more: it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
Signifying nothing. — Act V., Sc. J. 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 113 



From Hamlet. 

In the most high and palmy state of Eome, 

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, 

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead 

Did squeak and gibber in the Eoman streets. — Act L, Sc. 1. 

And then it started like a guilty thing 
Upon a fearful summons. — Act Sc. 1. 

But look, the morn in russet mantle clad, 
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. 

Act L, Sc. 1. 

He was a man, take him for all and all. — Act L, Sc. 2. 

Good my brother, 
Do not as some ungracious pastors do. 
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, 
Whilst, like a pufF'd and reckless libertine, 
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads 
And recks not his own read. — Act I., Sc. 3. 

This above all, — to thine own self be true; 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man. 

Act L, Sc. 3. 

My tables, — meet it is, I set it down 

That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. 

Act L, Sc. 5. 

Brevity is the soul of wit. — Act II., Sc. 2. 
Though this be madness, yet there 's method in it. — Act II., Sc. 2. 

I could be bounded in a nut-shell, and count myself a king of infinite 
space. — Act II., Sc. 2. 

What a piece of work is man ! How noble in reason ! how infinite in 
faculties ! in form and moving how express and admirable ! in action 
how like an angel ! in apprehension how like a god ! — Act II., Sc. 2. 

O, what a noble nifcd is here o'erthrown ! 
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue, sword, 
The expectancy and rose of the fair state. 
The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, 
The observed of all observers ! quite, quite, down ! 
10- H 



114 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, 
That suck'd the honey of his music vows, 
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, 
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh. 

Act IIL, Sc. 1. 

Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man. 
As e'er my conversation cop'd withal. 
45- * -x- ^ * 

Nay do not think I flatter; 
For what advancement may I hope from thee. 
That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits, 
To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered? 
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp. 
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, 
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? 
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice 
And could of men distinguish her election. 
She hath sealed thee for herself: for thou hast been 
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing; 
A man, that fortune's buflfets and rewards 
Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and bless'd are those 
Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled, 
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger 
To sound what stop she please : Give me that man 
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him 
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, 
As I do i\\Qe.—Act IIL, Sc. 2. 

Hamlet. — Will you play upon this pipe ? 
Guildenstern. — My lord, I cannot. 
Ham. — I do beseech you. 
Guil. — I know no touch of it, my lord. 

Ham. — 'Tis as easy as lying : govern these ventages with your fingers 
and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most 
eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops. 

Guil. — But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony ; I 
have not the skill. 

Ham. — Why, look you now, how iij^worthy a thing you make of me ! 
you would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you 
would pluck out the heart of my mystery : you would sound me from 
my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, ex- 
cellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood ! 



LITERATURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD, 115 

do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what 
instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me. 

Act III., Sc. 2. 

Look here, upon this picture and on this ; 

The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. 

See, what a grace was seated on this brow ! 

Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself: 

An eye like Mars, to threaten and command ; 

A station like the herald Mercury, 

New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; 

A combination, and a form, indeed. 

Where every god did seem to set his seal, 

To give the world assurance of a man. — Act III., Sc. 4. 

What is a man, 
If his chief good, and market of his time. 
Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more. 
Sure, He that made us with such large discourse, 
Looking before and after, gave us not 
That capability and godlike reason 
To fust in us unused. 

4t . * * ^ ^ ¥r 

Kightly to be great. 
Is not to stir without great argument; 
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, 
When honor's at the stake. — Act IV., Sc. 4. 

Our indiscretions sometimes serve us well 

When our deep plots do pall; and that should teach us, 

There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 

Kough-hew them how he will. — Act V., Sc. 2. 

I am more an antique Eoman than a Dane. — Act V., Sc. 2. 

Good-night, sweet Prince ; 
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. — Act V., Sc. 2, 

From King Lear. 

O Lear, Lear, Lear ! 
Beat at this gate that let thy folly in. 
And thy dear judgment out. — Act. I., Sc. 4' 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Pray do not mock me; 
I am a very foolish, fond old man, 
Fourscore, and upwards ; and, to deal plainly, 
I fear I am not in my perfect mind. — -Act IV., Sc. 7. 

Come, let's away to prison; 
We two will sing like birds i' the cage: 
When thou dost ask my blessing, I'll kneel down, 
And ask of thee forgiveness. — Act V., Sc. 3. 

Howl, howl, howl, howl !— O, ye are men of stone. 
Had I your tongues and eyes I'd use them so 
That heaven's vault should crack. O, she is gone forever. 

-X- * * * -x- 

Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha ! 
What is't thou say'st? — Her voice was ever soft, 
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman. 

Act v., Sc. 3. 

Vex not his ghost: O let him pass! he hates him, 
That would upon the rack of this rough world 
Stretch him out longer. — Act V., Sc. 3. 

From The Tempest. 

Our revels now are ended : these our actors, 
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and 
Are melted into air, into thin air ; 
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision. 
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; 
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, 
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff 
As dreams are made of, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep. — Act IV., Sc. 1. 

BEN JONSON. 

From The Forest. 

Drink to me only with thine eyes, 
And I will pledge with mine; 



LITERATURE OF TBE BLIZABETBAN PERIOD. 117 



Or leave a kiss but in the cup, 

And I'll not look for wine. 
The thirst that from the soul doth rise^ 

Doth ask a drink divine; 
But might I of Jove's nectar sup 

I would not change for thine. 

1 sent thee late a rosy wreath, 

Not so much honoring thee, 
As giving it a hope, that there 

It could not withered be, 
But thou thereon didst only breathe, 

And sent'st it back to me ; 
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, 

Not of itself but thee. 

Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke. 

Underneath this sable hearse 
Lies the subject of all verse, 
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother; 
Death ! ere thou hast slain another, 
Learn'd and fair, and good as she, 
Time shall throw a dart at thee. 

LORD BACON. 

From Essay on Truth. 

Doth any man doubt that if there were taken out of men's minds 
various opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one 
would, and the like, it would leave the minds of a number of men poor 
shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing 
to themselves? 

On Death. 

It is as natural to die as to be born ; and to a little infant perhaps 
one is as painful as the other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit is like 
one that is wounded in hot blood ; who for the time scarce feels the 
hurt ; and therefore, a mind fixed and bent upon somewhat that is good 
doth avert the dolors of death. 

On Revenge. 

Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more man's nature runs 
to, the more ought law to weed it out : for as for the first wrong, it doth 
but ofifend the law, but the revenge of that wrong putteth the law out 



118 HISTORY OF" ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



of office. Certainly, in taking revenge, a man is but even witli his 
enemy, but in passing it over he is superior. 

Of Adversity. 

The virtue of prosperity is temperance, the virtue of adversity is 
fortitude, which in morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is 
the blessing of the Old Testament, adversity is the blessing of the New, 
which carrieth the greater benediction and the clearer revelation of 
God's favor. Yet, even in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's 
harp, you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as carols. 

On Studies. 

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief 
use for delight is in privateness and retiring ; for ornament, is in dis- 
course ; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business ; 
for expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by 
one ; but the general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs, 
come best from those that are learned. To spend too much time in 
studies, is sloth ; to use them too much for ornament, is affectation ; to 
make judgment wholly by their rules, is the humor of a scholar ; they 
perfect nature, and are perfected by experience — for natural abilities are 
like natural plants, that need pruning by study ; and studies themselves 
do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in 
by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, 
and wise men use them ; for they teach not their own use ; but that is a 
wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation. Eead not 
to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to 
find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to 
be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and di- 
gested : that is, some books are to be read only in parts ; others to be 
read, but not curiously ; and some few to be read wholly, and with dili- 
gence and attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, and ex- 
tracts made of them by others ; but that would be only in the less im- 
portant arguments and the meaner sort of books ; else distilled books 
are, like common distilled waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full 
man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man ; and, there- 
fore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory ; if he 
confer little, he had need have a present wit ; and if he read little, he 
had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. 

Of Superstition. 
It were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion 
as is unworthy of Him ; for the one is unbelief, the other contumely. 



LITERATURE OF TBE ELIZABETRAK PERIOD. 119 



Of Atheism. 

I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend,* and the Talmud,! 
and the Alcoran, J than that this universal frame is without a mind ; and 
therefore God never wrought miracles to convince Atheism, because his 
ordinary works convince it. It is true that a little philosophy inclineth 
man's mind to Atheism, but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds 
above to religion ; for, while the. mind of man looketh upon second 
causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them, and go no further ; but 
when it beholdeth the chain of them confederate and linked together, it 
must needs fly to Providence and Deity. 

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 

Description of Aecadia. 

There were hills which garnished their proud heights with stately 
trees : humble valleys, whose base estate seemed comforted with the re- 
freshing of silver rivers : meadows, enamelled with all sorts of eye-pleas- 
ing flowers : thickets, which being lined with most pleasant shade were 
witnessed so too, by the cheerful disposition of many well-tuned birds : 
each pasture stored witli sheep, feeding with sober security, while the 
pretty lambs with bleating oratory craved the dam's comfort : here a 
shepherd's boy piping, as though he should never be old ; there a young 
shepherdess knitting, and withal singing, and it seemed that her voice 
comforted her hands to work, and her hands kept time to her voice- 
music. 

From the Defence of Poesy. 

And truly Plato, whosoever considereth shall find that in the body 
of his work, though the inside and strength were philosophy, the skin, 

as it were, and beauty dependeth most of poetry Herodotus 

entitled his History by the name of the " Nine Muses," so that truly 
neither the Philosopher nor the Historiographer could, at first, have 
entered into the gates of popular judgment if they had not taken a great 
passport of Poetry. 

RICHARD HOOKER. 

From the Ecclesiastical Polity. 

Of law there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the 
bosom of God; her voice the harmony of the world. All things in 
heaven and earth do her homage ; the very least as feeling her care, and 



* The Legend was a collection of miraculous stories. 

t The book of Jewish traditions. % The sacred book of the Mohammedans. 



120 



HISTORY OF EmLISB LITERATURE. 



the greatest as not exempted from her power. Both angels and men, 
and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and 
manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of 
their peace and joy. 

JOSEPH HALL. 

The Pleasure of Study and Contemplation. 

I can wonder at nothing more than how a man can be idle ; but of all 
others, a scholar ; in so many improvements of reason, in such sweetness 
of knowledge, in such variety of studies, in such importunity of 
thoughts : other artisans do but practise, we still learn ; others run still 
in the same gyre to weariness, to satiety ; our choice is infinite ; other 
labors require recreation ; our very labor recreates our sports ; we can 
never want either somewhat to do, or somewhat that we would do. 
How numberless are the volumes which men have written of arts, of 
tongues! How endless is that volume which God hath written of the 
world ! wherein every creature is a letter, eveiy day a new page. Who 
can be weary of either of these ? To find wit in poetry ; in philosophy, 
profoundness ; in mathematics, acuteness ; in history, wonder of events ; 
in oratory, sweet eloquence ; in divinity, supernatural light and holy 
devotion ; as so many rich metals in their proper mines ; whom would 
it not ravish with delight ? After all these, let us but open our eyes, 
we cannot look beside a lesson, in this universal book of our Maker, 
worth our study, worth taking out. What creature hath not his mira- 
cle ? what event doth not challenge his observation ? How many busy 
tongues chase away good hours in pleasant chat, and complain of the 
haste of night ! What ingenious mind can be sooner weary of talking 
with learned authors, the most harinless and sweetest companions ? Let 
the world contemn us ; while we have these delights we cannot envy 
them ; we cannot wish ourselves other than we are. Besides, the way 
to all other contentments is troublesome ; the only recompense is in the 
end. But very search of knowledge is delightsome. Study itself is our 
life, from which we would not be barred for a world. How much 
sweeter then is the fruit of study, the conscience of knowledge ? In 
comparison whereof the soul that hath once tasted it, easily contemns 
all human comforts. 

JOHN LYLY. 

From his Euphues. 
Advice of the Old Gentleman of Naples to Euphues. 
Let thy attire be comely, but not costly, thy diet wholesome but not 
excessive; use pastimes as the word importeth, to passe the time in 



LlTERATtlRE OF THE ELIZABETHAN PERIOD. 121 



honest recreation. Mistrust no man without cause, neither be thou 
credulous without proofe ; be not lyght to folloAV every man's opinion, 
nor obstinate to stand in thy own conceipt. Serve God, love God, feare 
God, God will so bless thee as either thy heart can wish or thy friends 
desire. 

EtjpHUEs' Advice to Philautxis. 

Bee humble to thy superiors ; gentle to thy equalls ; to thy inferiors 
favourable. Envie not thy betters, justle not thy fellows ; oppress not 
the poore. The stipend that is allowed to maintain thee use wisely, be 
neither prodigall to spende all, covetous to keep all. Cut thy coat ac- 
cording to thy cloth, and thinke it better to bee accompted tliriftie 
among the wise than a good companion among the riotous. 

No, no, the times are changed, as Ovid saith, and we are changed in 
the times. Let us endeavor, every one, to amend one, and we shall all 
soon be amended. Let us give no occasion of reproach, and we shall 
more easily beare the burden of false reports. 

****** 

It is not ye descent of birth, but ye consent of conditions, that maketh 
gentlemen ; neither great manors but good manners that express the 
true image of dignitie. 

•5f * * * 

" I know not how I should commend your beauty, because it is some- 
what too brown, nor your stature, being somewhat too low ; and of 
your wit I cannot judge." — ''No/' quoth she, "I believe you, for 
none can judge of wit but they that have it." — He perceiving all 
outward faults to be recompensed with inward favor, chose this virgin 
to be his wife. It is wit that flourisheth when beauty fadeth, that wax- 
eth young when age approacheth, and resembles the ivie leafe, who 
although it be dead continueth green. And because of all creatures the 
woman's wit is most excellent, therefore have the poets fained the Muses 
to be women. 

•35- * * * * 

A phrase there is which belongeth to your shoppe boorde, and that 
is to make love, and when I shall heare of what fashion it is made, if I 
like the patterne you shall cut me a partlette, so as you cut it not with 
a paire of left-handed sheeres. And I doubt not that though you have 
marred your first love in the making, yet by the time you have made 
three or four loves you will prove an expert workman. 
11 



122 HISTORY OF EmLlBH LITERATURE. 



From Shakespeare. Hamlet^ Act Z, ^c. 3. 

Folio edition, 1623. 
Advice of Polonius to Laertes. 

" Yet heere, Laertes ? Aboord, aboord for shame. 
The wind sits in the shoulder of your saile 
And you are staid for there: my blessing with you, 
And these few Preceipts in thy memory. 
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue 
Nor any unproportioned thought his Act. 
Be thou familiar; but by no means vulgar. 
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tride 
Grapple them to thy soule with hoopes of Steele; 
But doe not dull thy palme with entertainment 
Of each unhatch't, unfledg'd Comrade. Beware 
Of entrance to a quarrell; but being in 
Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. 
Give every man thine eare; but few thy voice. 
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy; 
Be not exprest in fancie; rich not gaudie, 
For the Apparell oft proclaims the man. 
And they in France of the best rank and station 
Are of a most select and generous, cheff in that. 
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be ; 
For love oft loses both itself and friend. 
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
This above all ; to thine owne selfe be true 
And it must follow, as the Night the Day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man. 
Farewell: my Blessing season this in thee. 

Syllabus. 

The Elizabethan Period embraces the reigns of Elizabeth, James I., and 
Charles 1. 

This period shows the culmination of the forces operating during the 
preceding period. 

Encouragement was extended to literature by all three of the sovereigns. 
The Queen and other ladies read Latin and Greek. 
There was general prosperity in the kingdom. 



SYLLABUS. 



128 



In literature it was tlie age of imagination. 

The first half of Elizabeth's reign was not prolific in great writers. 

The three great names of the Elizabethan period, are Shakespeare, 
Spenser, and Bacon. 

Nearly all the poems of the first half of the period are long. 

Spenser was the next considerable poet after Chaucer. There were a 
hundred and fifty years between them. 

Spenser was called "the poet's poet." 

His principal poems were The Faerie Queen, The Shepherd's Calendar, 
The Epithalamium, and Mother Hubbard's Tale. His chief prose work 
was, A View of the State of Ireland. 

The minor Elizabethan poets are, Thomas Sackville, Kobert Southwell, 
Samuel Daniel, Michael Drayton, Phineas and Giles Fletcher, Warner, 
Wotton, Donne, Davies, and later, connecting Milton's time with the Eliza- 
bethan, George Herbert, Joseph Hall, Carew, Lovelace, Suckling, Herrick, 
Francis Quarles, and Eichard Crash aw. 

Scotch poets were less prominent than in the preceding age. William 
Drummond and George Buchanan were the chief Scotch poets. 

The Deama was the principal feature of the Elizabethan literature. 

Its progress is traced from the Miracle and Moral Plays. It reached its 
perfection in Shakespeare. 

John Heywood was the inventor of the Interlude. 

Nicholas Udall wrote the first English Comedy, Ralph Royster Doyster. 

Thomas Sackville wrote the first English Tragedy, Ferrex and Porrex. 

After Shakespeare all the other dramatists of his time might be classed 
under the head of Minor Dramatists, beginning with Ben Jonson, then 
Marlowe, Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger, Middleton, Ford, Webster, 
Chapman, etc., ending with James Shirley, 

The language of the time was influenced by John Lyly's Euphues. 

Shakespeare was born April 23d, 1564, died April 23d, 1616. 

The facts respecting his life are meagre. 

His genius was universal. 

Ben Jonson and Spenser appreciated Shakespeare, 

Ben Jonson's principal plays are, The Fall of Sejanus, Catiline's Con- 
spiracy, Emery Man in his Humor, Volpone, The Silent Woman, and The 
Alchemist. 

Theatres were closed in 1648. 

Francis Bacon was the most illustrious name among the prose writers. 

His aim in science, was to produce results or " fruit " from practical 
investigation or experiment. 

Thomas Hobbes in his philosophic writings vindicated despotism and 
selfishness. 

Sir Philip Sidney, " a warbler of poetic prose," was a gentleman with 
" high erected thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy." One in whom the 
" courtier's, scholar's, soldier's eye, tongue, sword," were all combined. 



124 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITER ATURR 



Sir Walter Raleigh's was an eventful life. He wrote while in prison, 
A History of the World. 

Robert Burton wrote the Anatomy of Melancholy. 

Richard Hooker's is the greatest name in Theology in the Elizabethan 
era. His principal work is the Ecclesiastical Polity. 

John Knox was the founder of Presbyterianism in Scotland. 
SoYinYoxynroiQ the Book of Martyrs. 

The Translation of the Bible was one of the most important literary 
works of the time of James I. 

Other translations of this time, were Homer's Iliad by George Chapman, 
Tasso's Jerusalem by Fairfax, Ariosto's Orlando Furioso by Sir John 
Harrington, Montaigne's Essays by John Florio. 

Historians of this period were, Camden, Stow, Holinshed, Speed. 

Queen Elizabeth's claim to literary renown was slight. 

James's pretensions were somewhat better founded. 

Charles was beheaded January 30th, 1649. 

A new era was dawning upon England. 




4 



MILTON. 



CHAPTER VI. 
The Puritan Age. 

1649—1660, 

THE Puritan influence in literature began earlier, and lasted 
longer, than the time included within the above dates ; 
these, the student of history will recognize as marking the term 
of the Puritan government or the Commonwealth in England. 

Allusion was made in the foregoing chapter to the decline of 
literature in the reign of Charles First, and in order to com- 
prehend this degeneracy and the reactionary spirit of Puritan- 
ism which followed, it will be necessary to glance at the politi- 
cal features of the times. 

The prosperity of Elizabeth's reign had ended. A new line 
of kings had ascended the English throne, and the wisdom and 
moderation of Elizabeth's ministry was replaced by the rule of 
unworthy favorites of the Stuart family. The Reformation 
which promised such salutary influences in Elizabeth's reign, 
in the reign of James developed features dangerous to the lib- 
erties of the people. The "Divine Rights of Kings" that 
sovereign construed literally, considering himself in no way 
amenable to law.* 

The arrogant and aggressive bearing of the King aroused the 
indignation of liberty -loving England, especially as, side by side 
with the preconceived ideas of the "divine rights of kings," 



*In a speech delivered in the Star Chamber, he said : "As it is Atheism and blas- 
phemy to dispute what God can do, so it is presumption and a high contempt in a sub- 
ject to dispute what a king can do, or to say that a king cannot do tfiis or that." 
11 * 125 



t 



126 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Jaiijes held to the doctrine of the "divine rights of bishops." 
"Unbroken episcopal succession, and hereditary regal suc- 
cession were, with the new sovereign, the inviolable basis of 
church and state." * 

The condition to which James had reduced the. kingdom 
anticipated the disastrous reign of his son. The first care of 
Charles upon coming to the throne was to replenish the ex- 
hausted treasury. This he attempted to do by levying heavy 
taxes upon the people. 

The petition of rights was drawn up, and this Charles was 
induced to sign, thereby binding himself to levy no taxes upon 
the people without the consent of Parliament. But the con- 
tract was no sooner signed than violated, and, unheeding the 
murmurs of discontent, Charles continued in his illegal taxa- 
tions and his arbitrary disbanding of Parliament. 

By every means the King was making himself unpopular. 
Among his" many arbitrary acts was his attempt to introduce 
episcopacy into Scotland, and to force the liturgy of the Church 
of England upon the people. This the Scots resisted, refusing 
to abandon their Presbyterian form of worship. Moreover, 
they drew up a covenant, binding themselves to resist all 
religious innovations ; and this covenant every person through- 
out Scotland was obliged to sign. The "Covenanters," as 
they were afterwards called, became formidable enemies of 
Charles, and at once arrayed themselves into an army against 
him. Lacking means to quell this uprising, the King, having 
for eleven years governed without a Parliament, now sought 
its assistance. Parliament assembled, not, however, to raise 
means to assist the King in his distress, but to consider the 
grievances of the people. Enraged at this the King dissolved 
the Parliament, only to reassemble it in a time of more press- 
ing need. This time the Parliament declared that it " should 
not again be dissolved, prorogued, or adjourned without its 
own consent." Charles, by assenting to this, lost all control 
of the government. A civil war resulted, the Puritans siding 
with Parliament ; the regular clergy, the landed gentry, and a 
majority of the nobles siding with the King. 



* Green's History of the Englisli People. 



THE PURITAN AGE. 



127 



The battle of Naseby (1645) decided the strength of the Puri- 
tans. Charies was defeated, taken prisoner, and condemned to 
death " as a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and enemy of his coun- 
try," and on tlie 30th of January, 1649, was beheaded. 

No sooner was the atrocious deed for liberty committed, than 
the people recoiled with horror from the act. Pity took the 
place of hatred. The inconstant multitude, forgetting his 
errors, now deplored the untimely end of their sovereign. 

MILTON. 

In this crisis, when public sentiment was vacillating, it re- 
quired not only the strong arm of a Cromwell to command the 
actions, but the calm, clear intellect of a Milton to direct the 
feelings of the new repulflic. 

Until this stormy time John Milton (1608-1674), the poet 
and scholar, had lived in retirement, adding daily stores of 
knowledge and fancy to the rich treasury of his mind, in the 
conscious preparation for the work which was to make his 
name immortal. Through all these years of study, one thought, 
one desire had haunted him like a passion — a wish to write 
"something which the world would not willingly let die." 
But his country's call now aroused him from all dreams of 
putting into execution his long-cherished plans. 

Guided solely by his love of liberty, he entered upon his task 
of setting before the people a clear, dispassioned view of the 
state of the kingdom. His ability and ardent love of liberty 
attracted the attention of the 'Council of State, and he was 
appointed Latin or Foreign Secretary during the Common- 
wealth, in which capacity he made the intimate acquaintance 
of Cromwell. 

Milton himself gives a brief outline of his early career : 

" I was born," lie says, " at London, of respectable parents. My 
father was a man of the highest integrity. My mother, an excellent 
woman, was particularly known throughout the neighborhood for her 
charitable donations. My father destined me from a child for the pur- 
suits of polite learning, which I prosecuted with such eagerness that, 
after I was twelve years old, I rarely retired to bed from my lucubra- 
tions till midnight. This was the first thing which proved pernicious 
to my eyes, to the natural weakness of which were added frequent 



128 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



headaches. But as all this could not abate my instinctive ardor for 
learning, he provided me, in addition to the ordinary instructions of 
the grammar-school, with masters to give me daily lessons at home. 
Being thus instructed in various languages, and having gotten no slight 
taste of the sweetness of philosophy, he sent me to Cambridge, one of 
our two national colleges. There, aloof from all profligate conduct, 
and with the approbation of all good men, I studied seven years, ac- 
cording to the usual course of discipline and of scientific instruction, 
till I obtained, and with applause, the degree of Master, as it is 
called." 

It was during his course at the University that Milton com- 
posed the most of his Latin verses, and the beautiful Hymn on 
the Nativity. 

Leaving college, he passed the next five years at Horton, his 
father's country residence. Here he composed those lighter 
poems, which, if they do not evince the majesty and power of 
Paradise Lost, have a luxuriance of imagery scarcely equalled 
by his more celebrated poem. 

It would be difficult to find two more exquisite companion- 
pictures than Allegro and II Penseroso, the respective por- 
traitures of Mirth and Melancholy. There is a grace and airy 
lightness in his ''heart-easing mirth," that we seldom accredit 
to Milton, with whom we mainly associate only the grand and 
high-sounding line. But what could be more expressive of 
^'jollity " than the 

" Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, 
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles. 
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek. 
And love to live in dimple sleek; 
Sport that wrinkled Care derides. 
And Laughter holding both his sides." 

Ariel ^ scarcely invites to a more exquisite measure than 
that of Mirth in, 

" Come, and trip it as you go. 
On the light fantastic toe." 



* "Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd, 
The wild waves' whist, 
Foot it featly here and there." 

Tempest, Act I., Scene II.— Shakespeark. 



THE PURITAN AGE. 



129 



Arcades was written for a portion of an entertainment given 
to the Countess of Derby at her residence at Harefield, not far 
from Horton. Gomus is a masque composed in honor of an 
actual event, and was written soon after Arcades^ and for the 
same family.* 

Milton's early life was enriched by the warm friendship of 
two of his classmates, Charles Diodatit and Edward King. J 
In 1637 King died — was drowned on his passage home to 
Ireland. Milton mourned his death in the celebrated elegy, 
Lycidas, the last of his so-called early poems. ^ 

In 1638 the poet set out for a tour on the Continent. His 
genius attracted the attention of the learned men abroad, and 
on all sides compliments were heaped upon him ; but as soon 
as news of England's distress reached his ears, nothing could 
induce him to protract his stay. " Eor," said he, 

" I thought it base that I should be travelling at my ease abroad, even 
for the improvement of my mind, while my fellow-citizens were fight- 
ing for their liberty at home." 

And, accordingly, we find him, as in the opening of the 
chapter, advocating liberal views, justice, and humanity. He 
took no active part in the affairs of government, however, until 
after the execution of the King. 

Milton's life, in reference to his literary works, may be 
divided into three periods. The first, including his college 
days, and the five quiet years spent at Horton, when he wrote 
his Early Poems ; the second, comprising the best years of his 



* The Countess of Derby's son-in-law, the Earl of Bridgewater, lived at Ludlow 
Castle, near Horton. His two sons and his daughter, Lady Alice Egerton, had lost 
their way in passing through Haywood Forest. Several interesting incidents had 
occurred on their journey, and upon these events Milton was requested to write a 
Masque to be performed at the Castle. 

t Charles Diodati was of Italian parentage, but lived most of his time in London. 
The acquaintance of Milton and Diodati dates from their childhood, when, as boys, 
they studied together at St. Paul's School. Their intimacy ripened into the rarest 
friendship, which ended only with the death of Diodati. 

X Edward King was the son of Sir John King, Secretary for Ireland. Milton's ac- 
quaintance with him began at Cambridge. 

§ "Lycidas" was the name of a shepherd in one of Virgil's Eclogues; and, signi- 
fying whiteness and purity, Milton, under this name, embalmed the memory of his 
friend. 

I 



130 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



life, when, from the age of thirty-two to fifty -two, from 1640 to 
1660, he gave to his country time, talents, and the boon of 
sight. This may be called the Period of his Prose Works. The 
third period embraces the last few years of his life, in which he 
wrote his grand epic, Paradise Lost, and the classical drama 
Samson Agonistes. 

Returning from the Continent, where he had spent fifteen 
happy months, Milton engaged at once in the great contro- 
versy then raging between Episcopacy and Puritanism.* His 
first pamphlet was of Beformation touching Church Discipline 
in Un gland. In this work he shows that the Reformation, 
begun in the time of Henry YIII. , failed in its purpose so long 
as Popish ceremonies were retained in the Church of England, 
and so long as bishops retained "irresponsible power," for 
although they denied the Pope, they "hugged the popedom," 
he said, "and shared the authority among themselves." 

In 1643 Milton married Mary Powell, the daughter of a 
Royalist ; but the simple home of the Puritan poet was little 
in accordance with her gayer tastes, and after a month's resi- 
dence with her husband in London, she left and for some time 
refused to return. Milton hereupon wrote his two books or 
pamphlets on the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce.f 

While still engaged upon his pamphlets on divorce, Milton 
wrote another essay or letter on Education. In this work, 
after dwelling with some minuteness on the errors of the day 
in methods of imparting knowledge, he says : 

" I shall detain you now no longer in the demonstration of what we 



* In 1641, Bishop Hall, urged by Laud, whose sole aim was to secure church uni- 
formity, wrote "An Humble Remonstrance " to the high court of Parliament, urging 
the divine rights of Episcopacy. An answer to this was written by " Smectymnuus." 
This name was composed of the initial letters of the five Puritan divines who were 
the joint authors of the work— Stephen Marshall, Edmund Calamy, Thomas Young, 
Matthew Newcomen, and William (Uuilliam) Spurstow. The answer by Smectym- 
nuus to Bishop Hall called forth a confutation by Archbishop Usher, to which 
Milton replied, in a treatise entitled Of Prelatical Episcopacy. Hall then published 
a Defence of the Humble Remonstrance, and to this Milton replied in a pamphlet 
entitled Animadversions upon the Remonstrants Defence against Smectymnuus. Milton's 
fifth pamphlet. An Apology for Smectymnuus, was the last of his treatises on prelati- 
cal government. 

t This was followed by two other pamphlets upon the same subject, entitled Tetra- 
chordon and Colasterion, These were replies to objections to his doctrine of divorce. 



THE PURITAN AGE. 



131 



should not do, but straight conduct you to a hillside, where I will point 
out the right path of a virtuous and noble education ; laborious indeed, at 
the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects 
and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was 
not more charming. I doubt not but ye shall have more ado to drive 
our dullest and laziest youths, our stocks and stubs, from the infinite 
desire of such a happy nurture, than we have now to hale and drag our 
choicest and hopefuUest wits to that asinine feast of sow thistles and 
brambles, which is commonly set before them, as all the food and 
entertainment of their tenderest and most docile age." 

In the same year (1644) Milton published the most important 
work he had yet written. It was entitled Areopagitica; a Speech of 
Mr. John Milton for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing^ addressed 
to the Parliament of England. The year previous, Parliament, 
fearful of the influence of free speech uttered through the press, 
had instituted a censorship " to prevent all publications which 
inveighed against churchmen, or contained any insinuations 
against the measures of government." Milton made no delay 
in opposing this tyrannous measure, in which he saw the 
attempted strangling of free speech. He says : 

" Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the 
earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by hcensing and pro- 
hibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple. 
Who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open encounter ? 
. . . For who knows not that Truth is strong next to the Almighty ; 
she needs no policies, no stratagems, no licensings, to make her victo- 
rious ; those are the shifts and defences that error uses against her 
power." 

Soon after the execution of Charles, there appeared a work 
entitled Eikon Basilike (The Royal Image) ; the True Pour- 
traicture of his Sacred Majesty in his Solitudes and Sufferings. 
It was believed by most to have been written by the King 
during his imprisonment. Appearing when it did, it produced 
the most profound impression. Tinctured with a vein of piety, 
of which Charles was not destitute, it called upon the sympa- 
thies of the masses, and so universal was the sentiment of pity 
and indignation it excited, that the Council of State, to which 
body Milton had been appointed secretary, urged him to_ write 
a reply. So to Eikon Basilike (The Royal Image) Milton op- 
posed his Eikonoclastes {Image Breaker) : 



132 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



" I opposed," says he, the Iconoclast to the Ikon, not, as is pretended, 
in insult to the departed spirit of the King, but in the persuasion that 
Queen Truth ought to be preferred to King Charles." 

Again, in the same year, the Council of State called upon 
Milton to answer an antagonist upon the Continent. This was 
Salmasius, a celebrated professor at Leyden, who sought to in- 
flame the prejudices of other nations against the English for 
the murder of their king. The work was addressed to the 
legitimate heir, Charles II. In reply Milton wrote his cele- 
brated Defence of the People of England. 

Salmasius did not attempt another encounter. A less pow- 
erful writer did in an article called, " The Cry of Royal Blood 
to Heaven against the English Parricides." To this Milton 
replied in a Second Defence for the People of England. He had 
now lost the sight of both eyes. In a Sonnet to his friend and 
former pupil, Cyriac Skinner, he says, in reference to the loss 
of his eyes : 

" What supports me, dost thou ask ? 
The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 
In Liberty's defence, my noble task, 
Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
This thought might lead me through the world's vain masque 
Content, though blind, Iiad I no better guide." 

The Commonwealth ended, and the Stuart line restored, the 
supporters of Cromwell became in many instances the flatterers 
of Charles II. Milton, on the other hand, refused to become 
Secretary to tke Council of State under Charles II., preferring 
honest poverty to royal favors won at the expense of con- 
science. 

The period of Milton's life which we are now approaching 
constitutes the Third Period, or that of his Later Poems. 
When at last his long life-dream is to be realized — after his 
best days have been spent in the warfare for truth and liberty, 
and when total blindness is his portion— full of confidence in 
his ability to cope with his mighty theme — Paradise Lost— he 
begins by invoking the aid of the "heavenly muse" in his 
" adventurous song : " 



THE PURITAN AGK 



133 



"That with no middle flight intends to soar. 
And chiefly thou, oh spirit, that dost prefer 
Before all temples the upright heart and pure, 
Instruct me, for thou knowest. 

What in me is dark 
Illumine ; what is low raise and support ; 
That to the height of this grand argument 
I may assert eternal Providence, 
And justify the ways of God to men." 

His reference to the baseness of his own times is frequently 
evident. All the fallen angels are princes and potentates, most 
of them representing some false religion or idolatry which had 
crept into a purer worship. Mammon is described as 

the least erected spirit that fell 

From heaven ; for e'en in heaven his looks and thoughts 
Were always downward bent, admiring more 
The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
Than aught divine or holy." 

The whole poem breathes aspirations for the highest. Even 
these fallen enemies of good aspire to a better condition. 

The fourth book contains some of the finest passages. The 
descriptions of night and morning are scarcely excelled by 
Shakespeare : 

"Now came still evening on, and twilight gray 
Had in her sober livery all things clad." 



"Now morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime 
Advancing, sow'd the earth with Orient pearl." 

Ko English writer has ever had such complete mastery of 
the language. What noise of conflict in these words : 

"Arms on armor clashing bray'd 
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 
Of brazen chariots rag^d." 

And what harmony in these : / 

"Heaven open'd wide 
Her ever during gates, harmonious sound, 
On golden hinges moving." 

12 



134 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



It is the grand swelling note of the organ that is oftenest 
heard in his melody, but not unfrequently the gentlest sounds 
in nature are represented, as in the 

"liquid lapse of murmuring streams," 

where the yqvj sound of the water is heard* 

Seven years were occupied by Milton in the writing of Para- 
dise Lost. Then, at the suggestion of his friend, Thomas 
Elwood, he wrote Paradise Begained. This poem, however, 
sinks far below the other in poetic dignity. Paradise Lost was 
finished in the gay, licentious times of Charles II., when only 
flippant, bad literature was popular. Pressing want compelled 
Milton to oifer his manuscript for sale. A publisher bought it 
for five pounds. Should three editions sell, the author was to 
receive an additional five pounds. He lived to receive ten 
pounds. After his death, his widow sold her entire "right, 
title, and interest " in the work for eight pounds ! 

In the last years of his life, when by the " ever-during dark " 
surrounded, and "from the cheerful ways of men cut off," the 
blind poet poured out his pent-up grief in the grand tragedy of 
Samson Agonistes. In this Milton fulfilled his hope of writing 
a sacred drama, into which form he once thought of turning 
his great epic. Samson Agonistes is modelled by the rules of 
the Greek drama. In this poem we are made to understand 
Milton's own personal feelings. He is the Samson shorn of 
his strength, and " blind among enemies." Symbolized in this 
drama we see the perfidious age of Charles II., the national 
humiliation for liberty lost and reviled ; and Milton, blind 
and scoff'ed at, yet undaunted, feeling the spiritual strength 
of a Samson to pull down the unholy temple of the Philis- 
tines. 

George Wither (1588-1667) and Andrew Marvell (1620-1678) 
were Puritan poets of less note. 

The Cavalier Poets. 

The same age that produced Milton produced Cowley, Waller, 
Davenant, and Butler, who, being Royalists, enjoyed a popularity 
which Milton in his own day never knew. Yet, in the language of 



THE CAVALIER POETS. 



135 



Pope, ''Who now reads Cowley?" And Waller, who was then styled 
tlie 

"Maker and model of melodious verse," 

is now as little read as Cowley. The same may be said of Davenant, a 
poet as unscrupulous in conduct as Waller. Yet to all these the history 
of Literature assigns a niche, however small. 

Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) was probably the most popular poet 
of his age. A devoted follower of the Stuarts, he naturally looked for 
some reward for his fidelity, but was disappointed in all his hopes of 
advancement from the King. He is remarkable as one of the precocious 
children of song. His first poems were published when he was in his 
fifteenth year. His chief works are his Miscellanies; a collection of 
love verses, styled the Mistress; Pindaric Odes; and the Davidies, an 
unfinished epic, celebrating the troubles of David. 

William Davenant (1605-1668) succeeded Ben Jonson as poet- 
laureate, but his fame rests chiefly on the aid he gave to the restora- 
tion of the drama, which, during the Puritan influence, was entirely 
suppressed. His principal work is Gondibert, an unfinished epic poem. 
His most popular dramas were The Law against Lovers; The Siege of 
Rhodes, The Cruel Brother, and Albovine. 

The ever celebrated poem, Hudihras., is one of the rare ex- 
amples of a burlesque or personal satire outliving the time for 
which it was written. The wit is coarse but irresistible. Its 
sole object was to ridicule the Puritans. The author, Samuel, 
Butler (1612-1680), although serving, in this poem, the in- 
terest of the King's party, lived in comparative obscurity, and, 
notwithstanding the wide popularity of his works, died in 
poverty. He was probably incited to the writing of this satire 
by his daily intercourse with Sir Samuel Luke, in whose family 
he resided as tutor. The peculiarities which marked the Puri- 
tan of the day were doubtless exaggerated in Luke. However 
that may be, he is supposed to be the prototype of the redoubt- 
able hero, Hudibras.* 

Like Don Quixote, who sets out to achieve all the impossible 
feats of knight errantry, Hudibras, inflamed with Puritanic 
zeal, sets forth to correct abuses and reform the manners of 
the time by enforcing the dictates of Parliament, suppressing 



* The name is an adaptation of that of one of the knights of old romance, Sir 
Hugh de Bras. 



136 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITmATTlRB. 



theatrical performances and every species of gayety among the 
people. This coarse burlesque, the expression of the popular 
sentiment of the Restoration period, was a great favorite with 
Charles II. and his courtier^. A copy of Hudibras was in the 
hands of all, while the grand epic of Milton lay unnoticed on 
the bookseller's shelf. 

Philosophers. 

To the gross selfishness of this age of Charles II., the writings of 
Thomas Hobbes contributed. He has already been alluded to as a 
contemporary of Bacon and Ben Jonson ; but his active career was even 
later, when, in opposition to Milton's grand republican notions of gov- 
ernment, he promulgated his doctrines of selfishness as the basis of all 
human actions. 

The most powerful opponent of the doctrines of Hobbes was Ralph 
CuDWOETH (1617-1688), whose True Intellectual System of the Universe 
established his reputation as a powerful controvertist and a vigorous 
writer of prose. 

Theology. 

Religion was the one absorbing theme of the masses. If 
there was cant amongst the Puritans, and flagrant immorality 
amongst the cavaliers, there was also earnest, sincere piety 
with the one, and loyalty and religious purity with the other. 

The Church of England found one of its grandest supporters 
in Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667), who, like Hooker, threw the 
grace of clemency over his strongest arguments against Puri- 
tanism. He united, in his style, vigorous thought with ele- 
gance of diction. On account of his exuberant imagination, 
he is sometimes called "the Shakespeare of Divines." His 
principal work is the Liberty of Prophesying^ which contains 
broad and tolerant views on the forms of religious worship. 
This was written during the Protectorate. His more popular 
works are those on the Bule and Exercise of Holy Living and 
Dying. 

Another distinguished divine of the Church of England was 
William Chillingworth (1602-1644). Pie was first a Prot- 
estant, then was won over to the Church of Rome. Soon after, 
however, he was converted again to Protestantism. These 
changes, the result of study and research, were, he main- 



NON- CONFORMISTS. 



137 



tained, "of all his actions, those which satisfied him most." 
His chief work was the Beligion of the Protestants a Safe Way 
to Salvation. 

Dr. Isaac Barrow (1630-1677), noted equally as a divine 
and mathematician, was a man of powerful intellect. In his 
attainments in mathematics, he has been ranked second to Sir 
Isaac Kewton. He was remarkable, alike for the readiness 
of his wit,* and for his integrity of purpose, which is well illus- 
trated by his own mathematical demonstration that a straight 
line is the shortest in morals as well as in Geometry.''^ His ser- 
mons are models of conciseness. 

Non-Conformists. 

The Bible, after its revision by the order of King James, had 
become, among a certain class, the most popular book in the 
realm. Its great truths and marvellous narrations were pon- 
dered over, lived upon, and made the daily spiritual food of the 
Puritan worshipper. Its various interpretations led to the for- 
mation of various sects. Besides the large bodies of Presby- 
terians and Baptists, there were the Independents, Anabap- 
tists, Quakers, Socinians, and innumerable others, some of 
them ephemeral, and others increasing in numbers and influ- 
ence, and destined to become a power in the religious world. 

One of the distinguished names among the !N"on-conformist 
divines is that of Eichard Baxter (1615-1691), author of The 
Call to the Unconverted^ and The Saints'' Everlasting Best. For 
some things in his writings deemed unfavorable to Episcopacy, 
he was fined and imprisoned, but, being released, he continued 
his labors of preaching and writing. 

The greatest teachers of mankind in religion have oftenest 



* It is related that, at his examination for orders, when the usual questions were 
propounded to the candidates, Barrow, when his turn came, quickly replied to the 
" Quid est Fides f " 

" Quod non vides." 

"Good ! " exclaimed the prelate, continuing the examination, " Quid est Spes F" 
" Nondum res," replied Barrow. 

" Better yet ! " cried the delighted dignitary, ^'Quid est Carilas ? " 
"Ah, magister, id est raritas ! " 

" Best of all ! " cried the prelate. " It must be 'either Erasmus or the Devil.' " * 



* Sir Thomas Moore's exclamation ou first hearing the conversation of Erasmus. 

12* 



138 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



sprung from the humblest classes ; and during the first twelve 
years of the reign of Charles II., while that merry monarch, in 
the intervals of his carousals, was punishing heretics, or those 
who did not conform to the established church, there lay in the 
jail at Bedford a prisoner who, imbued with the love of a pure 
religion and steeped in the lore of the Bible, was writing for 
future ages and for all time a work which the world will 
almost as unwillingly let die as it will Milton's grand epic. 

This prisoner, John Bunyan (1628-1688), the poor "tinker 
of Bedford," was rich in spiritual gifts, though from his rigid 
conscientiousness,* which bordered on morbidness, he accused 
himself of all sorts of " ungodly " actions. His teeming imagi- 
nation painted for himself the most terrible punishments for 
the innocent delight he took in the " bell-ringings " at the 
"steeple-houses." All the enjoyments which an imaginative, 
poetic temperament like Bunyan's could feel, were repressed 
with his own firm, vigorous will : but the play of his lively 
imagination would have an outlet, and poured out its wealth 
of beauty in the finest allegory in the language. 

In his twenty-fifth year he joined the Baptist church, and for 
six years labored uninterruptedly, preaching in Bedford and 
in other places, exciting great attention by his simple eloquence 
and power.! But this was in the days of the Commonwealth- 
In 1660 the reign of kings began again, and among the first 
acts of the ministr}^ of Charles II. was to end all religious 
gatherings that were unauthorized by the Church of England. 
Bunyan was thrown into prison. There, illumined with true 
poetic inspiration, and that light which passeth understand- 
ing, he composed the Pilgrim''s Progress. The only books to 
which he had access were the Bible, and Fox's Book of Mar- 
tyrs. These he perused constantly, until such visions formed 
themselves in his imagination as only a poet's brain could 



*He tells us that the spirit of righteousness was kiudled in his heart by hearing a 
group of poor women " talking about the things of God, as if joy did make them speak 
—as if they had found a new world." 

fThe -learned Dr. Owen took great delight in listening to the graphic glowing 
words of the enthusiastic preacher, and when asked once by the King how such a 
learned man as he could "sit and hear an illiterate tinker prate," replied, "May it 
please your Majesty, could I possess that tinker's abilities for preaching, I would 
most gladly relinquish all my learning." 



NON-- CONFORMISTS. 



139 



conceive and portray. His language is that of the common 
people of his time, whose phrases were largely borrowed from 
the Bible. So deeply had this book influenced their lives that 
unconsciously they expressed themselves in its very language. 
Bunyan knew it by heart, and no better guide could he have 
had for the use of " English undefiled. " He wrote many other 
works, but none of them equalled his great allegory. JSText in 
importance to the Pilgrwi's Progress is an account of his own 
life, entitled Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners; The Life 
and Death of Mr. Badman; A Discourse Touching Prayer, etc., 
etc. 

Among the prominent Non-conformists of this day were 
George Fox and Egbert Barclay, and a little later Wil- 
liam Penn. 

George Fox (1624-1690), the founder of the Society of 
Friends, claims a place in literature as one of the moulders of 
thought in this age of religious confusion. Reflective and 
serious by nature, he, like Bunyan, early listened to the divine 
call. Quitting his humble occupation as a shepherd, he went 
about preaching, believing that a learned education was not a 
necessary qualification for the ministry of the gospel, and that 
especially a clerical education is contrary to the teaching of 
Christ or of any part of the Bible. The chief element of his 
doctrine was embraced in his oft-repeated injunction, "Mind 
the light" — "the true light, which lighteth every man that 
Cometh into the world " — the spirit of God manifested in the 
soul of man. Persecuted and imprisoned, he still continued 
to preach, "the burden of his testimony being that Jesus 
Christ teaches his people himself through the influence of his 
Spirit, which is the light and life of the regenerated soul;" 
that war is inconsistent with the spirit of Chri'Stianity ; that 
oaths are at all times irreverent and demoralizing ; that capital 
punishment is "contrary to the Scriptures and to the spirit of 
God, which leads to judgment and mercy," and "that the 
sovereignty of conscience belongs to God, and that no human 
power has a right to invade it."* 



* The extreme corruptness of the times, in which music and elegant accomplish- 
ments ministered to luxury and voluptuousness, caused early Friends to testify 
against the fashionable accomplishments of the day. The strictures upon dress and 



140 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Egbert Barclay (1648-1690), the learned expounder and 
defender of Quakerism, by his work entitled An A'pology for 
the True Christian Divinity^ as the same is held forth and practised 
by the People called^ in scorn, Quakers, set before the world, in 
a more systematized form, the doctrines held by the Society 
of Friends. 

History and Biography. 

One of the greatest prose works of this period was Claren- 
don's History of the Great Bebellion Edward Hyde, Earl 
OF Clarendon (1608-1673), was an adherent of the Stuart 
cause throughout the reigns of Charles I. and Charles II. 
During the Commonwealth he remained abroad with Charles 
II., returned with him at the Kestoration, and became Lord 
Chancellor of England.* 

To the chatty, gossiping pen of Thomas Fuller (1608- 
1661) we are indebted for some of our most graphic and in- 
teresting sketches of men of his own and of preceding times. 
His principal works are History of the Worthies of England; 
The Church History of Or eat Britain, from the Birth of Christ 
to 1648 ; The Holy and Profane State ; The History of the Holy 
War; Good Thoughts in Bad Times; Good Thoughts in Worse 
Times; Mixed Contemplations in Better Times. Fuller's Worthies 
of England is one of the first biographical works in the English 
language. 

One of the most delightful and unique prose writers of this 
time was Sir Tpiomas Browne (1605-1682). With introverted 
and back-looking eyes he views all nature. He is philosopher 
and antiquarian in one. During the stormy days in which he 
lived, his own life was unruffled ; king nor commonwealth dis- 



manners were also a silent remonstrance against the excesses of the times. Seeing 
the homage paid to rank, George Fox chose to show his own disregard of station or 
title by refusing to take off his hat to any one, no matter how high in rank. These 
outward forms have lost much of their original significance, and in many cases are 
but traditions of the past. 

* Although an adherent of the King's cause and party, his own morals were unim- 
peachable. This integrity and prudence rendered him obnoxious to the profligate 
court of Charles II., and on an insufiicient pretext he was impeached for treason, 
and banished. He retired to France and wrote his History of the Great Rebellion. 
His daughter, Anne Hyde, married the king's brother, the Duke of York, afterwards 
James II., and her two daughters, Mary and Anne, became Queens of England. 



HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 



141 



turbed his placid serenity. The discovery of some Roman 
urns near Norfolk, in which human dust had been buried, 
called forth from this quaint philosopher the most profound 
thoughts on the nature of death and immortality. Life and 
its responsibihties did not weigh upon him as they did upon his 
great contemporary, Milton. He could exclude from his mind 
all the outward disturbances of state and church, and in his 
own meditations find solace and delight. His Urn Burial is 
one of his most delightful works. His first work was entitled 
Beligio Medici (The Religion of a Physician), and as it affords 
a more intimate acquaintance with this eccentric man's per- 
sonal character, it has been more read than most of his other 
works. In it he shows himself to be philosopher, poet, moralist, 
and physician. The work became instantly popular, and was 
translated into various languages of Europe. His next work 
was entitled Pseudodoxia Epidemica^ or Yulgar Errors. In this 
he attempts to correct such time-honored notions as, that moles 
are blind ; that storks will only five in republics and free states ; 
that the forbidden fruit was an apple ; that crystal is nothing 
else but ice strongly congealed. In his honest endeavor to 
correct these popular errors, he introduced as many errors as 
he corrected, but the style is quaint, lively, and full of interest, 
and no one ever sustained any injury by the errors he propa- 
gated. He loved the sonorous Latin, and wherever it was 
possible he used a Latinized word. It scarcely seems pedantic 
in him, for a genuine, artless love of its sound betrays itself 
in every line. It seems like the whim of a musical, eccentric 
child. He is often fantastic and obscure, but the reader is 
usually repaid for time spent in search of his meaning. 

A writer as thoroughly delightful as Sir Thomas Browne, 
but without his extensive learning, was good old Izaak Wal- 
ton (1593-1683), dear not only to every angler's heart, but to 
the heart of all true lovers of literature. With the childlike 
simplicity of Chaucer, he drinks in the charms of nature, and 
brings all who listen to him under her genial influences. What 
abandonment to the delights of natural scenery in his best 
known work, the Complete Angler. How thoroughly he enjoys 
his own thoughts, and yet how unconscious of himself! As we 
sometimes feel in Chaucer, there is a ripple of happy laughter 



142 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



under the words of this lover of nature. It is not in the Unen- 
draper's little back shop in London that we see him, hut in the 
fields, by murmuring streams, where with hook and line he 
gives himself up to the complete enjoyment of the recreation, 
to which every ripple of the stream, every flower on its margin, 
every "little nimble musician of the air," contributes. They 
are all his. After speaking with loving familiarity of the 
blackbird, song thrush, skylark, linnet, and the "honest robin," 
he says : 

" But the nightingale, another of my airv creatures, breathes such 
sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might 
make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, 
when the very laborer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have often, the 
clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doub- 
ling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth and 
say : ' Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, 
when thou affordest bad men such music on earth.' " 

The Complete Angler is written in the form of a dialogue or 
conversation .between three persons, an angler (Piscator), a 
hunter (Yenator), and a falconer (Auceps). Each commends 
his favorite pursuit, but at last Piscator wins the others to his 
loved pastime, and Yenator abandons hunting and becomes a. 
pupil to Piscator. In the conversation between the angler and^ 
his scholar, as seated on the bank of some quiet stream they I 
discourse— now upon angling, now upon the scenery around 
them — on contentment, and the ever-ruling presence of God, 
we have the outpouring of a simple, earnest heart attuned to 
the harmonies of nature, and withal such an honest, heart}", 
innocent enjoyment of his pursuit, that for very sympathy 
with the writer, we forget the torture of the fly, or bait that 
ministers to his enjoyment. 

After rising with the dawn and fishing for several hours, 
master and pupil seat themselves under a sycamore, where 
together they eat their rural breakfast, and thus Piscator con- 
tinues his praises of their occupation : 

" No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the 
life of a well-governed angler ; for when the lawyer is swallowed up 
with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then 
we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as 



LITERATURE OF MILTON'S TIME. 



143 



much quietness as these silent silver streams which we now see glide so 
quietly by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say of angling as Dr. 
Boteler said of strawberries, ' Doubtless God could have made a better 
berry, but doubtless God never did.' And so, if I might be judge, God 
never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling. 

" I '11 tell you, scholar, when I sat last on this primrose bank and 
looked down these meadows, I thought of them as Charles the emperor 
did of the city of Florence, that they were too pleasant to be looked 
on but only on holidays. As I then sat on this very grass, I turned my 
present thoughts into verse. 'T was a wish which I '11 repeat to you." 
Whereupon he recites The Angler's Wish, beginning, 

" I in these flowery meads would be ; 
These crystal streams should solace me ; 
To whose harmonious, bubbling noise 
I with my angle would rejoice." 

Besides the Complete Angler^ Walton wrote numerous bio- 
graphical works — The Lives of Dr. John Bonne., Sir Henry 
Wotton., Bichard Hooker, George Herbert., and Dr. Eohert San- 
derson. 

James Harrhstgton (1611-1677) was the author of a politi- 
cal romance entitled Oceana. England (Oceana), he says, 
being an island, seems designed by God for a commonwealth. 
All power, he maintained, depends upon the balance of prop- 
erty, especially upon landed property. The work was dedi- 
cated to Cromwell. 

Illustrations of the Literature of Milton's Time. 

MILTON. 

From his Ode, 
On the MoRNiNa of Christ's Nativity. 
I. 

" It was the winter wild. 
While the heaven-born child 

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies : 
Nature, in awe to him. 
Had doff'd her gaudy trim. 
With her great Master so to sympathize; 



144 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



It was no season then for her 

To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 

IV. 

" No war, or battle's sound 
Was heard the world around. 

The idle spear and shield were high up hung; 
The hooked chariot stood 
Unstain'd with hostile blood ; 

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; 
And kings sat still with awful eye, 
As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by. 

V. 

"But peaceful was the night, 
Wherein the Prince of Light 

His reign of peace upon the earth began: 
The winds, with wonder whist. 
Smoothly the waters kist, 

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean. 
Who now hath quite forgot to rave. 

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave." ^ 

From CoMUS. 
The Lady Separated from her Brothers. 
O, welcome, pure-eyed faith, white-handed hope, 
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings, 
And thou unblemish'd form of chastity I 
I see ye visibly, and now believe 
That he, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill 
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance. 
Would send a glistening guardian, if need were. 
To keep my life and honor unassail'd. 
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night? 
I did not err, there does a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night. 
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove. 

From Areopagitica. 
Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely, above all 
liberties. 

* This ode consists of twenty-seven stanzas. 



LITERATURE OF MILTON'S TIME. 



145 



He who destroys a good book kills reason itself, kills the image of 
God, as it were, in the eye. Many a man lives a burthen to the earth; 
but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed 
and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. It is true, no age 
can restore a life whereof, perhaps, there is no great loss ; and revolu- 
tions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a rejected truth, for want of 
which whole nations fare worse. We should be wary, therefore, what 
persecution we raise against the living labors of public men ; how we 
spill that seasoned life of man, preserved and stored up in books ; since 
we see a kind of homicide may thus be committed, sometimes a mar- 
tyrdom ; and if extended to the whole impression, a kind of massacre, 
whereof the execution ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but 
strikes at the ethereal and fifth essence, the breath of reason itself, — 
slays an immortality rather than a life. — Ibid. 

Lest some should persuade ye. Lords and Commons, that these argu- 
ments of learned men's discouragement at this your order are mere 
flourishes, and not real, I could recount what I have seen and heard in 
other countries, where this kind of inquisition tyrannizes ; when I have 
sat among their learned men (for that honor I had), and been counted 
happy to be born in such a place of philosophic freedom, as they sup- 
posed England was, while themselves did nothing but bemoan the 
servile condition into which learning amongst them was brought ; that 
this was it which had damped the glory of Italian wits ; that nothing 
had been there written now these many years but flattery and fustian. 
There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo, grown old, a 
prisoner to the inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than 
the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought. And though I knew 
that England then was groaning loudest under the prelatical yoke, 
nevertheless I took it as a pledge of future happiness that other nations 
were so persuaded of her liberty. Yet it was beyond my hope that 
those worthies were then breathing in her air, who should be her lead- 
ers to such a deliverance as shall neyer be forgotten by any revolution 
of time that this world hath to finish. — Ibid. 

From Paradise Lost. 

"Is this the region, this the soil, the clime?" 
Said then the lost archangel; — "this the seat 
That we must change for heaven ? This mournful gloom 
For that celestial light ? Be it so, since he, 
Who now is Sovereign, can dispose and bid 
What shall be right : farthest from him is best, 
13 K 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Whom reason hath equall'd, force hath made supreme, 

Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields. 

Where joy forever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 

Infernal world ! and thou profoundest hell 

Eeceive thy new possessor; one who brings 

A mind not to be changed by place or time : 

The mind is its own place, and in itself 

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven." 

Booh L 

On the other side up rose 
Belial, in act more graceful and humane ; 
A fairer person lost not heaven; he seem'd 
For dignity composed, and high exploit : 
But all was false and hollow; though his tongue 
Dropp'd manna, and could make the worse appear 
The better reason. 
■K- -x- -x- * -x- 

Who would lose. 
Though full of pain, this intellectual being — 
Those thoughts that wander through eternity? 

Book IL 

All night the dreadless angel, unpursued 
Through heaven's wide champaign, held his way, till Morn, 
Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand 
Unbarred the gates of light. 

^ ^ * ^ 

Gladly then he mix'd 
Among those friendly powers, who him received 
With joy and acclamations loud, that one. 
That of so many myriads fall'n, yet one 
Eeturn'd not lost. On to the sacred hill 
They led him, high applauded, and present 
Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice. 
From midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard : 
" Servant of God, well done ; well hast thou fought 
The better fight, who single hast maintain'd 
Against revolted multitudes the cause 
Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms ; 
And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
Universal reproach ; far worse to bear 
Than violence ; for this was all thy care, 



LITERATURE OF MILTON'S TIME. 



To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
Judged thee perverse." 

Book 

From Samson Agonistes. 

But peace ! I must not quarrel with the will 
Of highest dispensation, which herein 
Haply had ends above my reach to know: 
Suffices that to me strength is my bane, 
And proves the source of all my miseries; 
So many and so huge, that each apart 
Would ask a life to wail; but chief of all, 
O loss of sight, of thee I most complain ! 
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, 
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 
Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 
And all her various objects of delight . 
AnnuU'd, which might in part my grief have eased, 
Inferior to the vilest now become 
Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me: 
They creep, yet see ; I, dark in light, exposed 
To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, 
Within doors or without, still as a fool, 
In power of others, never in my own ; 
Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. 
O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 
Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse 
Without all hope of day ! 
O first-created Beam, and thou great Word, 
" Let there be light, and light was over all ; " 
Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree? 
The sun to me is dark. 
And silent as the moon. 
When she deserts the night. 
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. 
Since light so necessary is to life. 
And almost life itself, if it be true 
That light is in the soul. 
She all in every part; why was this sight 
To such a tender ball as the eye confined, 
So obvious and so easy to be quench'd? 
And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused. 
That she might look at will through every pore? 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Then had I not been thus exiled from light, 

As in the land of darkness, yet in light, 

To live a life half dead, a living death, 

And buried ; but, O yet more miserable ! 

Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave; 

Buried, yet not exempt, 

By privilege of death and burial 

From worst of other evils, pains, and wrongs; 

But made hereby obnoxious more 

To all the miseries of life, 

Life in captivity 

Among inhuman foes. 

SONNET^ON HIS OWN BLINDNESS. 

When I consider how my light is spent 

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide. 
And that one talent which is death to hide. 

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 

To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
My true account, lest He, returning, chide ; 
" Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ? " 

I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent 

That murmur, soon replies, " God doth not need 

Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best ; his state 
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed. 

And post o'er land and ocean without rest; 

They also serve who only stand and wait." 

SAMUEL BUTLER. 

From HuDiBRAS. 

When civil dudgeon first grew high, 
And men fell out, they knew not why ; 
When hard words, jealousies, and fears. 
Set folks together by the ears; 
When gospel-trumpeter, surrounded 
With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded ; 
And pulpit, drum ecclesiastic. 
Was beat with fist instead of a stick; 
Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling. 
And out he rode a-colonelling. 



LITERATURE OF 31 IL TON'S TIME. 



A wight he was, whose very sight would 
Entitle him mirror of knighthood, 
That never bow'd his stubborn knee 
To anything but chivalry, 
Nor put up blow, but that which laid 
Eight worshipful on shoulder-blade. 
« * -K- -x- * * 

We grant, although he had much wit, 

H' was very shy of using it. 

As being loath to wear it out, 

And therefore bore it not about ; 

Unless on holidays or so, 

As men their best apparel do. 

Beside, 't is known he could speak Greek 

As naturally as pigs squeak ; 

That Latin was no more difficile 

Than to a blackbird 't is to whistle. 

■!f ^- -X- * -X- 

He was in logic a great critic, 
Profoundly skill' d in analytic : 
He could distinguish, and divide 
A hair 'twixt south and south-west side ; 
All this by syllogism true. 
In mood and figure he would do. 
For rhetoric, he could not ope 
His mouth, but out there flew a trope : 
And when he happen'd to break off 
In th' middle of his speech, or cough, 
H' had hard words ready to show why, 
And tell what rules he did it by ; 
Else when with greatest art he spoke. 
You 'd think he talk'd like other folk ; 

* -x- * -K- ->:- 

Did they for this draw down the rabble 
With zeal and noises formidable ; 
And make all cries about the town 
Join throats to cry the bishops down ? 

^ ^ ^ 

When tinkers bawled aloud, to settle 
Church discipline, for patching kettle. 
The oyster women locked their fish up. 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



And trudged away, to cry No Bishop, 
A strange harmonious inclination 
Of all degrees to reformation. 

From the Elephant m the Moon". 

A Satire on the Royal Society. 

A learn'd society of late, 
The glory of a foreign state, 
Agreed upon a summer's night, 
To search the moon by her own light ; 
When, at the full, her radiant light 
And influence, too, were at their height. 
And now the lofty tube, the scale 
With which they heaven itself assail. 
Was mounted full against the moon, 
And all stood ready to fall on. 
When one, who for his deep belief 
Was virtuoso then, in chief. 
Advancing gravely, to apply 
To th' optic glass his judging eye. 
Cried, Strange ! then reinforced his sight 
Against the moon with all his might, 
And bent his penetrating brow, 
As if he meant to gaze her through; 
When all the rest began to admire 
And, like a train, from him took fire. 
Surpris'd with wonder, beforehand. 
At what they did not understand, 
Cried out, impatient to know what 
The matter was they wondered at. 

^ ^ % ^- ¥r * 

Quoth one, a stranger sight appears 
Than e'er was seen in all the spheres ; 
An elephant from one of those 
Two mighty armies is broke loose. 
And with the horror of the fight 
Appears amazed and in a fright. 

■X- * * -X- -Jfr -x- 

Most excellent and virtuous friends, 
This great discovery makes amends 
For all our unsuccessful pains 



LITERATURE OF MILTON'S TIME. 



151 



And lost expense of time and brains. 

But since the world's incredulous 

Of all our scrutinies, and us, 

And since it is uncertain when 

Such wonders will occur again, 

Let us as cautiously contrive 

To draw an exact narrative 

Of what we every one can swear 

Our eyes themselves have seen appear. 

it * * -x- * 

Now while they were diverted all 

With wording the memorial, 

The footboys, for diversion, too. 

As having nothing else to do. 

Seeing the telescope at leisure, 

Turn'd virtuoso for their pleasure, 

Began to gaze upon the moon 

As those they waited on had done. 

When one, whose turn it was to peep. 

Saw something in the engine creep. 

And, viewing well, discover'd more 

Than all the learn'd had done before. 

Quoth he, "A little thing is slunk 

Into the long star-gazing trunk, 

And now is gotten down so nigh, 

I have him just against mine eye." 

* 4f if -X- -X- -Sf 

For he had scarce applied his eye 
To the engine but immediately 
He found a mouse was gotten in 
The hollow tube, and, shut between 
The two glass windows in restraint, 
Was swell' d into an elephant. 



JEREMY TAYLOR. 

On Peayer. 

Prayer is the peace of our spirit, the stillness of our thoughts, the 
evenness of recollection, the seat of meditation, the rest of our cares, 
and the calm of our tempests. Prayer is the issue of a quiet mind, of 
untroubled thoughts ; it is the daughter of charity and the sister of 
meekness; and he that prays to God with an angry, that is, with a 



152 HISTORY OF moLlBB LtTBRATURR 



troubled and discomposed, spirit, is like him that retires into a battle 
to meditate, and sets up his closet in the out-quarters of an army, and 
chooses a frontier garrison to be wise in. Anger is a perfect alienation 
of the mind from prayer, and therefore is contrary to that attention 
which presents our prayers in a right line to God. For so have I seen 
a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he 
rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds ; but the 
poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, 
and his motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at every 
breath of the tempest than it could recover by the libration and fre- 
quent weighing of his wings ; till the little creature was forced to sit 
down and pant, and stay till the storm was over ; and then it made a 
prosperous flight, and did rise and sing as if it had learned music and 
motion from an angel, as he passed sometimes through the air about 
his ministries here below : so is the prayer of a good man : when his 
affairs have required business, and his business was matter of discipline, 
and his discipline was to pass upon a sinning person, or had a design 
of charity, his duty met with the infirmities of a man, and anger was 
its instrument, and the instrument became stronger than the prime 
agent, and raised a tempest, and overruled the man ; and then his 
prayer was broken, and his thoughts were troubled, and his words went 
up towards a cloud, and his thoughts pulled them back again, and made 
them without intention, and the good man sighs for his infirmity, but 
must be content to lose the prayer, and he must recover it when his 
anger is removed, and his spirit is becalmed, made even as the brow of 
Jesus, and smooth like the heart of God ; and then it ascends to heaven 
upon the wings of the holy dove, and dwells with God, till it returns, 
like the useful bee, laden with a blessing and the dew of heaven. 

On Content. 

Since all the evil in the world consists in the disagreeing between 
the object and the appetite, as when a man hath what he desires not, 
or desires what he hath not, or desires amiss, he that composes his spirit 
to the present accident hath variety of instances for his virtue, but none 
to trouble him, because his desires enlarge not beyond his present for- 
tune : and a wise man is placed in the variety of chances, like the nave 
or centre of a wheel in the midst of all the circumvolutions and changes r 
of posture, without violence or change, save that it turns gently in com- 
pliance with its changed parts, and is indifferent which part is up, and 
which is down ; for there is some virtue or other to be exercised what- 
ever happens — either patience or thanksgiving, love or fear, moderation 
or humility, charity or contentedness. 




LITERATURE OF MILTON'S TIME. 



153 



It conduces much to our content if we pass by those things which 
happen to our trouble, and consider that which is pleasing and pros- 
perous ; that, by the representation of the better, the worse may be 
blotted out. 

It may be thou art entered into the cloud which will bring a gentle 
shower to refresh thy sorrows. 

I am fallen into the hands of publicans and sequestrators, and they 
have taken all from me: what now? let me look about me. They have 
left me the sun and moon, fire and water, a loving wife, and many 
friends to pity me, and some to relieve me, and I can still discourse ; 
and, unless I list, they have not taken away my merry countenance, and 
my cheerful spirit, and a good conscience ; they still have left me the 
providence of God, and all the promises of the gospel, and my religion, 
and my hopes of heaven, and my charity to them too : and still I sleep 
and digest, I eat and drink, I read and meditate, I can walk in my 
neighbor's pleasant fields, and see the varieties of natural beauties, and 
delight in all that in which God delights, that is, in virtue and wisdom, 
in the whole creation, and in God himself. 

On Toleration. 

Any zeal is proper for religion but the zeal of the sword and the zeal 
of anger : this is the bitterness of zeal, and it is a certain temptation to 
every man against his duty ; for if the sword turns preacher, and dic- 
tates propositions by empire instead of arguments, and engraves them 
in men's hearts with a poniard, that it shall be death to believe what I 
innocently and ignorantly am persuaded of, it must needs be unsafe to 
try the spirits, to try all things, to make inquiry ; and yet, without this 
liberty, no man can justify himself before God or man, nor confidently 
say that his religion is best. This is inordination of zeal ; for Christ, by 
reproving St. Peter drawing his sword even in the cause of Christ, for 
his sacred and yet injured person, teaches us not to use the sword, though 
in the cause of God, or for God himself. 

* When Abraham sat at his tent door, according to his custom, wait- 
ing to entertain strangers, he espied an old man, stooping and leaning 
on his staff, weary with age and travail, coming towards him, who was 
a hundred years of age. He received him kindly, washed his feet, pro- 
vided supper, caused him to sit down ; but observing that the old man 
eat, and prayed not, nor begged for a blessing on his meat, he asked 



* With this apologue, which he said he had found in the " Jews' books," Jeremy 
Taylor closes his Liberty of Prophesying. 



154 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



him why he did not worship the God of heaven. The old man told 
him that he worshipped the fire only, and acknowledged no other God. 
At which answer Abraham grew so zealously angry that he thrust the 
old man out of his tent, and exposed him to all the evils of the night, 
and an unguarded condition. When the old man was gone, God called 
to Abraham, and asked him where the stranger was. He replied, I 
thrust him away because he did not worship thee. God answered him, 
I have suffered him these hundred years, although he dishonored me ; 
and couldst not thou endure him one night ? 

Upon this, saith the story, Abraham fetched him back again, and 
gave him hospitable entertainment and wise instruction. Go thou and 
do likewise, and thy charity will be rewarded by the God of Abraham. 

DR. ISAAC BARROW. 

Industry. 

Industry doth not consist merely in action, for that is incessant in all 
persons, our mind being a restless thing, never abiding in a total cessa- 
tion from thought or design ; being like a ship in the sea, if not steered 
to some good purpose by reason, yet tossed,. by the waves of fancy, or 
driven by the winds of temptation some whither. But the direction of 
our mind to some good end, witJiout roving or flinching, in a straight 
and steady course, drawing after it our active powers in execution 
thereof, doth constitute industry. 

RICHARD BAXTER. 

From a Narrative of Memorable Passages of his Life 
AND Times. 

I now see more good and more evil in all men than heretofore I did. 
I see that good men are not so good as I once thought they were, but 
have more imperfections ; and that nearer approach and fuller trial 
doth make the best appear more weak and faulty than their admirers 
at a distance think. And I find that few are so bad as either malicious 
enemies or censorious separating professors do imagine. In some, in- 
deed, I find that human nature is corrupted into a greater likeness to 
devils than I once thought any on earth had been. But even in the 
wicked, usually there is more for grace to make advantage of, and more 
to testify for God and holiness, than I once believed there had been. 



LITERATURE OF MILTON'S TIME. 



155 



JOHN BUNYAN. 

From PrLGRiM's Progress. 

Now, I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate ; and 
lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on 
that shone like gold. There were also that met them with harps and 
crowns, and gave to them the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in 
token of honor. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the 
city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, " Enter ye into 
the joy of your Lord." I also heard the men themselves, that they 
sang with a loud voice, saying, " Blessing, honor, and glory, and power 
be to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, forever and 
ever." 

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after 
them, and behold the city shone like the sun ; the streets, also, were 
paved with gold, and in them walked many men with crowns on their 
heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps, to sing praises withal. 

There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one 
another without intermission, saying, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord." 
And after that they shut up the gates ; which when I had seen, I wished 
myself among them. 

Now, while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to 
look back, and saw Ignorance coming up to the river side ; but he soon 
got over, and that without half the difficulty which the other two men 
met with. For it happened that there was then in that place one Vain- 
Hope, a ferryman, that with his boat helped him over ; so he, as the 
other, I saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only he came 
alone ; neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. 
When he was coming up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that 
was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should 
have been quickly administered to him ; but he was asked by the men 
that looked over the top of the gate. Whence come you, and what would 
you have ? He answered, " I have eat and drank in the presence of the 
King, and he has taught in our streets." Then they asked for his cer- 
tificate, that they might go in and show it to the King ; so he fumbled 
in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they. You have none ! 
but the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he 
would not come down to see him, but commanded the two shining ones 
that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the city to go out and take 
Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they 
took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I saw on 



156 BISTORT OF maLlSE LITERATURE. 



the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was 
a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the City 
of Destruction. " So I awoke, and behold it was a dream." 

SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 

From The Urn Burial. 

In a field of Old Walsingham, not many months past, were digged up 
between forty and fifty urns, deposited in a dry and sandy soil, not a 
yard deep, not far from one another : not all strictly of one figure, but 
most answering these described ; some containing two pounds of bones, 
distinguishable in skulls, ribs, jaws, thigh-bones, and teeth, with fresh 
impressions of their combustion ; besides, the extraneous substances, 
like pieces of small boxes, or combs handsomely wrought, handles of 
small brass instruments, brazen nippers, and in one some kind of opal. 

That these were the urns of Komans, from the common custom and 
place where they were found, is no obscure conjecture. What time the 
persons of these ossuaries entered the famous nations of the dead, and 
slept with princes and counsellors, might admit a wide solution. But 
who were the proprietaries of these bones, or what bodies these ashes 
made up, were a question above antiquarianism, not to be resolved by 
man, not easily, perhaps, by spirits, except we consult the provincial 
guardians or tutelary observators. Had they made as good provision 
for their names, as they have done for their relics, they had not so 
grossly erred in the art of perpetuation. But to subsist in bones, and 
be but pyramidally extant, is a fallacy in duration. . . . 

■X- * 4f * * * 

There is nothing strictly immortal but immortality. Whatever hath 
no beginning may be confident of no end. But the sufi&ciency of Chris- 
tian immortality frustrates all earthly glory, and the quality of either 
state after death makes a folly of posthumous memory. 

Man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes and pompous in the grave ; 
solemnizing nativities and deaths with equal lustre. 

From YuLGiAR Errors. 

Ice is only water congealed by the frigidity of the air, whereby it 
acquireth no new form, but rather a consistence or determination of its 
difiiuency, and emitteth not its essence, but condition of fluidity. 
Neither doth there anything properly congiaciate but water, or watery 
humidity, for the determination of quicksilver is properly fixation, that 
of milk coagulation, and that of oil and unctuous bodies only incrassation. 



SYLLABUS. 



157 



Syllabus. 

The Commonwealth of England continued from 1649 to 1660. 
With the accession of the Stuarts the liberty of the people was threat- 
ened. 

Eesistance to royal aggression brought on civO war. 
Milton was called upon to direct the sentiments of the new republic. 
His own interests were abandoned ; and he devoted himself to the lib- 
erty of England. 
Love of liberty and truth were the guiding principles of his life. 
Milton's life may be divided into three parts. 

1st. The period of his Early Poems, when he wrote Hymn to the Na- 
tivity, L' Allegro, II Penseroso, Arcades, Comus, Lycidas. 

2d. The period of his Prose Works, principal of which were Reformation 
touching Church Discipline, Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, a tractate 
on Education, Areopagitica, First Defence of the People of England, 
Second Defence of the People of England. This period embraced the 
twenty years between 1640-1660. 

3d. The period of his Later Poems, in which he wrote Paradise Lost, 
Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes. 

He was totally blind during the last period. 

He was seven years in writing Paradise Lost. 

The two other Puritan poets were George "Whither and Andrew Marvell. 

The Cavalier poets were Cowley, Waller, Davenant, Butler. 

Ralph Cudworth controverted the doctrine of Hobbes. 

In Theology the principal writers of the Church of England were Jeremy 
Taylor, Chillingworth, Barrow. 

Prominent Non-conformists were Baxter, Bunyan, George Fox. 

The influence of the Bible was paramount in the Puritan literature. 

Clarendon's History of the Rebellion was the greatest historical work. 

Fuller's Woi^thies was the greatest biographical work. 

Sir Thomas Browne was an original writer and thinker. 

His chief works were Urn Burial, Religio 3Iedici, and Vulgar Errors. 

Izaak Walton is called "the Father of Angling." 

His enjoyment of nature may be compared to Chaucer's. 

His works are The Complete Angler, Lives of Dr. John Donne, Sii' Henry 
Wotton, Richard Hooker, George Herbert, and Dr. Robert Sanderson. 

James Harrington wrote Oceana, a political romance. 
14 



DRYDEN. 



CHAPTER VII. 
The Restoration. 

1660—1700, 

WITH the restoration of the Stuarts, and absolute monarchy, 
a reactionary tide set in. The Puritan restraint removed, 
it was like the breaking away of a mighty dam, when the pent- 
up torrent dashes headlong in its wild career, bearing everything 
before it in indiscriminate ruin. The tide of feeling and action 
that now overran the Puritan landmarks was not an angry 
torrent, but as impetuous and much more dangerous because 
alluring in its aspect. It was the mad rush of Ucentious 
pleasures. The sober livery of the Puritan was exchanged for 
the flaunting robes of the reveller. 

It was the age of Louis XIY. in France— brilliant, witty, li- 
centious. Charles II., in his exile, had been a guest in the court 
of Louis, and an apt scholar in the unlawful pleasures that 
marked French society at that time. Restored to the throne 
of England he tried to introduce into his own all the gayeties 
of the French court. The English character, by nature, is 
thoughtful and serious, the reverse of the French, so that the 
adoption of the manners of that lively nation set but ill upon 
the plain, blunt Englishman. Carried away, however, in the 
tide of unlawful pleasures, he could not see that, in the eyes 
of other nations, he was making of himself a mere mountebank 
to be jeered at and despised. 
Through all this abandonment to gayety and so-called pleas- 

158 



THE RESTORATION. 



159 



ure, there ran a minor tone of sadness. How could it be other- 
wise ? Absolute abandonment to pleasure is as sad a thing as 
absolute abandonment to grief. Pepys, who had some office 
in the king's service, and kept a Diary, tells us : — 

"July 31st, 1666. — The Court empty, the King being gone to Tunbridge, 
and the Duke of York a-hunting, I had some discourse with Povy, 
who is mightily discontented, I find, about his disappointments at Court, 
and says, of all places, if there be hell, it is here. No faith, no truth, 
no love, nor any agreement between man and wife, nor friends." 

In consequence of the unrestrained, luxuriant, and foul modes 
of living, it is not surprising that one of the greatest plagues 
that ever fell upon mankind visited London. It was followed 
the next year (1666) by one of the most terrible fires that ever 
devastated a city. Of the ravages made by both, Pepys gives 
. minute details in his Diary. The plague is still raging when 
he gives the following account of the ordinary pleasures, which 
not even the presence of universal death could abate. 

"August 14th, 1666. — After dinner, with my wife and Mercer, to the 
beare-garden, and saw some good sport of the bulls tossing of the dogs, 
and one into the very boxes. But it is a very rude and nasty pleasure. 
. . . We supped at home and very merry ; and then about nine 
o'clock to Mrs. Mercer's gate, where the fire and boys expected us, and 
her son had provided abundance of serpents and rockets, and there 
mighty merry till twelve o'clock at night, flinging our fireworks, and 
burning one another and the people over the way. At last we into 
Mrs. Mercer's, and there mighty merry, smutting one another with 
candle-grease and soot till most of us were like devils. That done, 
we broke up and to my house, and there I made them drink, and Mer- 
cer danced a jig, and Nan Wright, and my wife, and Pegg Pen put on 
perriwigs. Thus till three or four in the morning, mighty merry." 

The Duke of York, brother to the King, much to the scandal' 
of court circles, had married Anne Hyde, daughter of the Earl 
of Clarendon. They had two daughters, Mary and Anne. The 
former married William of Nassau, the latter, George of Den- 
mark. After the death of Anne Hyde, his first wife, James 
married Mary of Modena. Their son was afterwards known 
in history as the Pretender. 

Charles II. died in 1685, and was succeeded by his brother, 
the Duke of York, afterwards James II. The efibrts of this 



160 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



monarch to restore the Catholic reUgion made him most un- 
popular with the English people, who, in 1688, compelled him 
to abdicate in favor of his daughter Mary and her husband 
William of Orange. The latter was invited over from Holland 
to take the reins of English government. This result was not 
accomplished without bloodshed, and is known in English 
History as the Eevolution. Protestantism was now firmly 
established. 

With the state of society such as has been described, it is not 
difficult to imagine the character of the literature. "The 
reigning taste," says Macaulay, " was so bad that the success 
of a writer was in inverse proportion to his. labor, and to his 
desire for excellence." 

The theatres, which during the Puritan government were 
closed, were now reopened, not to give life again to Shake- 
speare's grand plays, but to admit a drama so corrupt that it 
would have shocked the ruder age of Shakespeare. 

Pepys says : "Aug. 20th, 1666. — To Deptford by water, reading Othello, 
Moore of Venice, which I ever heretofore esteemed a mighty good 
play, but having so lately read ' The Adventures of Five Hours,' it seems 
a mean thing." 

So corrupt was the general taste, that Shakespeare's plays, 
to please, must be adapted to the low instincts of the time. It 
was during the reign of Charles II. that women first appeared 
as actresses. 

Says Pepys, " Dec. 28th, 1667. — To the King's house, and there saw 
' The Mad Couple,' which is but an ordinary play ; but only Nell's* 
and Hart's mad parts are most excellent done, but especially hers ; which 
makes it a miracle to me to think how ill she do any serious part, and 
in a mad part do beyond all imitation almost." 

Movable scenery, decorations, lights, music, and other ex- 
ternal attractions were added to the stage, and here were re- 
flected the morals and manners of the age ; vice was crowned 
and virtue deemed a mere pretence. 

Untrue to itself, the English head and brain could produce 



* Nell Gywnn. 



THE RESTORATION. 



161 



nothing but deformities. The carnival of pure imagination 
was over.* 

The philosophy of Hobbes was the guide to serious reflection. 
He taught that the King's will should be law in everything, and 
that all moral law was reducible to one central governing im- 
pulse — self interest. "No man gives except for a personal 
advantage." "Friends serve for defence and otherwise." 
"Not he who is wise is rich, but he who is rich is wise," were 
favorite precepts inculcated by the doctrine of Hobbes. 

The fire of genius that had illuminated the early part of the 
Elizabethan period grew cold towards the latter part of that 
age, producing dull, unmeaning poetry, with only here and there 
a gleam of poetic fire. Milton came and created for himself a 
new realm. He died and left no heir to his imperial throne. 

Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, had written without 
rules of art. Each was a law unto himself. Superior genius 
guided these great originals more unerringly than all a rheto- 
rician's rules. But now the spirit of the times was seeking 
methods — methods in art, methods in science, politics, and 
religion. The spirit was universal. In France the first school 
of criticism in poetry was established, under the influence of 
Boileau and other great French writers of this age. 

DRYDEN. 

To John Dryden (1631-1700) is attributed the establishment 
of a correct style in English composition. He disclaimed, how- 
ever, receiving impulse or aid from contemporary writers in 
France, but claimed to have returned to the first models of 
classic style. Being but a second-rate poet, his genius con- 
structed but did not create. This teaching, as will be seen in 
the following chapter, was carried so far by Pope and others 
that the art of polishing became of more importance than the 
art of creating or " maHng." 

Dryden's conscience was an easy one, permitting him to drift 
or float with the popular tide. Of his dramas he says he 



* •' Poetry," says Macaulay, " inflamed the passions ; philosopliy undermined the 
principles ; divinity itself inculcating an abject reverence for the court, gave addi- 
tional effect to its licentious example .'' 

14* L 



162 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

"wrote bad enough to please." His poems celebrate the 
heroes of the day. In 1658 he writes a lamentation for Crom- 
well, and in two years after hails, with the inconstant crowd, 
the accession of Charles II. He writes epistles which are 
merely exaggerated flatteries ; and satires, directed not against 
an existing evil, but against personal enemies, or those less 
gifted than himself. In argument he especially shone, and 
acquired a remarkable power of reasoning in verse. His relig- 
ious sentiments were as abiding as his political tenets. He was 
whatever his worldly interests demanded. During the Protec- 
torate, his family being connected with Puritans, he gave no 
evidence of another faith. With the Restoration, he attached 
himself to the Church of England, and was a warm adherent. 
When James II. ascended the throne, Dryden became as ardent 
in his Catholic faith, not, perhaps, foreseeing that the revolu- 
tion establishing Protestantism was so soon to follow. With that 
event, he had not the face to turn again, so in William and 
Mary's reign he simply lost his laureateship. Dryden, how- 
ever, was but the type of his age. Milton was the type of a 
man for any age. 

What Dryden might have been had he made the best use of 
his talents, is suggested by the marked growth in his writings, 
viewed in chronological order. He never put forth his best or 
greatest power, except, perhaps, once, when he wrote his last 
great poem, Alexander'' s Feast. 

Dryden's first poem, except a few school performances, was 
written On the Death of Oliver Cromwell, whom he thus extols : 

" How shall I then begin, or where conclude, 
To draw a fame so truly circular? 
For in a round what order can be show'd, 
Where all the parts so equal perfect are? 

"His grandeur he derived from Heaven alone; 
For he was great ere fortune made him so: 
And wars, like mists that rise against the sun, 
Made him but greater seem, not greater grow." 

In 1660 appeared his Astrea Bedux, a poem on the Happy 
Restoration and Return of his Sacred Majesty Charles II., who, 



THE RESTORATION. 



163 



" Tossed by fate and hurried up and down, 
Heir to his father's sorrows, with his crown, 
Could taste no sweets of youths' desired age; 
But found his life too true a pilgrimage. 
Unconquered yet in that forlorn estate. 
His manly courage overcame his fate. 
* * * * 

As souls reach heaven while yet in bodies pent, 
So did he live above his banishment. 
¥z % ■» * -x- 

And viewing monarch's secret arts of sway, 
A royal factor for his kingdoms lay. 
Thus banish' d David spent abroad his time, 
When to he Ood's anointed was his crime." 

Other panegyrics follov^^ed this, and in 1667 appeared his 
Annus Mirdbilis — the Year of Wonders (1666), the great events 
being the war with Holland and the great fire. From this poem 
of over three hundred stanzas a short extract is made : 

"Night came; but without darkness or repose, 
A dismal picture of the general doom, 
When souls distracted when the trumpet blows, 
And half unready with their bodies come. 

" Those who have homes, when home they do repair, 
To a last lodging call their wandering friends ; 
Their short, uneasy sleeps are broke with care 
To look how near their own destruction tends. 

" Those who have none, sit round where once it was, 
And with full eyes each wonted room require ; 
Haunting the yet warm ashes of the place. 

As murdered men walk where they did expire." 

These brief extracts are sufficient to show how destitute of 
poetic feeling Dryden was at this time. The Annus MiraUlis 
was very popular, however, OAving to the incidents which it 
commemorated and the interwoven eulogy of the King. 

The same year Dryden published his celebrated Essay on 
Dramatic Poetry^ in which he advocates the use of rhyme in 
tragedy, ignoring the fact that the French had adopted it. 

Absalom and Achitophel is a satire especially aimed against 



164 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



the Earl of Shaftesbury, for the part he took in trying to secure 
the throne to the Duke of Monmouth, an illegitimate son of 
Charles II. , and for his determined opposition to the Duke of 
York's succession to the throne, or to the accession of any 
Catholic heir. In this poem Charles II. figures as David^ the 
Duke of Monmouth as Absalom, the Earl of Shaftesbury as 
Achitophel. After a long speech from the god-like David, the 
poem ends with quite a Homeric strain : 

" He said : the Almighty nodding gave consent ; 
And peals of thunder shook the firmament. 
Henceforth a series of new time began, 
The mighty years in long procession ran: 
Once more the god-like David was restored, 
And willing nations knew their lawful lord." 

MacFlecknoe was a satire against Shadwell, an inferior dram- 
atist of the time, who had attacked Dryden previously in a 
rhymed address. There is much keen, harsh wit in the poem. 
MacElecknoe was the real name of a poor dramatist of Charles 
II. 's time, so obscure that the world would never have heard of 
him but for Dryden's, and afterwards Pope's, satires upon him. 
In Dryden's poem of this name MacFlecknoe is represented as 
choosing Shadwell as his successor to the throne of Dulness ; for 

" Shadwell alone, of all my sons, is he 
Who stands confirmed in full stupidity. 
The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, 
But Shadwell never deviates into sense. 

•H- * -H- -X- 

A tun of man in thy large bulk is writ. 
But sure thou 'rt but a kilderkin of wit. 
Like mine, thy gentle numbers feebly creep ; 
Thy tragic Muse gives smiles, thy comic sleep. 

■K- * ■X- * * 

Leave writing plays, and choose for thy command 
Some peaceful province in Acrostic land. 
There thou may'st wings display and altars raise. 
And torture one poor word a thousand ways." 

A poem entitled Beligio Laid, or A Layman'' s Faith, appeared 
the same year, and is usually regarded as a defence of the 
Church of England against the Dissenters. It appears, how- 



THE RESTORATION. 



166 



ever, rather as an inquiry into religion, and seems the most 
earnest and ingenuous of all Dry den's writings upon such sub- 
jects. It opens thus : 

" Dim as the borrowed beams of moon and stars 
To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, 
Is Keason to the soul ; and as on high, 
Those rolling fires discover but the sky, 
Not light us here ; so Eeason's glimmering ray 
Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, 
But guide us upward to a better day." 

When James's policy became fully known, Dryden became an 
avowed Catholic, and wrote a defence for the Catholic religion, 
entitled The Hind and Panther., which might be considered 
as a sequel to the Heligio Laid; for, changeable as Dryden 
seemed, he was evidently always more, at heart, a Catholic 
than anything else. 

In 1688 the Revolution placed the Protestant William and 
Mary upon the throne, and Dryden wrote no more political 
satires. He contented himself with Translations, and a series 
of Fahles, as they were called — stories from Chaucer and Boc- 
caccio. His most important translation was VirgiPs JEneid. 

Three years before his death he wrote an Ode for St. Cecilia''s 
Day, entitled Alexander''s Feast. It was written at the request 
of a musical society, for their celebration of the nativity of the 
patron saint of music. Struck out by the poet in the white 
heat of his imagination, it is by far the best of any of his poems.* 
It is a masterpiece in boldness of imagery and in musical 
adaptation. 

Dryden continued to write for the stage during most of his 
life. His first comedy, The Wild Gallant, was not a success. 
Dryden's muse was by no means a comic one. He was by 
nature reserved and taciturn. He says of himself : 

" My conversation is slow and dull, my humor saturnine and unre- 
served. In short, I am none of those who break jests in company and 
make repartees." 

It was the Golden Age of French literature, enriched by the 



* He said, " I have been so struck with the subject which occurred to me, that I 
could not leave it till I had completed it. Here it is, finished at one sitting." 



166 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



tragedies of Corneille and Racine, and the comedies of Moliere. 
In England the spirit of the Shakespearian drama was dead, 
and the corrupt representations of Dry den's time are classed 
under the title of The New Drama, or more truly the Corrupt 
Drama. 

Dryden's principal plays are The Rival Ladies., The Indian 
Emioeror., The Conquest of Granada, Marriage a la Mode, The 
Spanish Friar, All for Love, and Aureng-Zehe. The Indian 
Queen was written in conjunction with his brother-in- law. Sir 
Robert Howard, and is in rhymed couplets. 

Dryden may be regarded as the connecting link between the 
imaginative, natural school of Elizabethan writers, and the 
stiff, artificial school of Pope, or as the founder of the classical 
or artificial school of poets. 

Dramatists. 

The Drama of the Restoration was represented by Otway 
(1651-1685) and Lee (1658-1691) in tragedy, and Wycherly 
(1640-1715) in comedy. The plays of the latter mark the 
grossest immorality of the time. A little later, though still 
contemporary with these, were Congreve (1666-1729), Yan- 
BRUGH (1666-1726), Farquhar (1678-1707), Southerne (1660 
-1746), and Kicholas Rowe (1673-1718). Other dramatists of 
less literary merit were Shadwell, Elkanah Settle, John 
Crowne, and Mrs. Behn, while many of the profligate wits 
of the court indulged their literary tastes in play writing. The 
Duke of Buckingham's Rehearsal was a satire on the heroic 
dramas of the day, and pointed especially at Dryden, who, in 
return, ridiculed the Duke as Zimri, in Absalom and Achit- 
ophel. 

Of the tragedies written during this period. The Orphan, 
and Venice Preserved, by Otway, Jane Shore, Lady Jane Grey, 
and The Fair Penitent, by Nicholas Rowe, are the most cele- 
brated. 

Among the comic dramatists, Congreve stood preeminent for 
wit. He, with Wycherly and Etherege, a dramatist of less 
note, represented the "comedy of manners," reflecting the 
modes of thinking, talking, and acting that prevailed in fashion- 
able society of the time. 



PROSE WRITINGS OF THE RESTORATION. 167 



A check was given to the corruptions of the stage b}^ the 
single-handed, well-directed blows of a clergyman, Jeremy 
Collier (1650-1726), who bravely faced the popular current, 
and openly denounced the immoralities of the stage. In his 
Short View of the Profaneness and Immorality of the English Stage, 
he especially denounced Dryden, Wycherly, and Congreve. 
The last two undertook a defence, but Dryden acknowledged 
the justice of the accusation, and, in the preface to his Fables, 
says of Jeremy Collier : — "In many things he has taxed me 
justly ; and I have pleaded guilty to all thoughts and expres- 
sions of mine which can be truly argued of obscenity, profane- 
ness or immorality, and retract them." After this contro- 
versy a better tone was given to the lighter literature of the 
day. 

PROSE WRITINGS OF THE RESTORATION. 
Science. 
NEWTON, LOCKE, AND BOYLE. 

Although, at a first glance, reckless gayety and dissolute 
abandonment seem, alone, to mark the age, there existed a 
strong undercurrent of healthful feeling prompting to inquiry 
in Science, Religion, and Politics. 

The Royal Society was established in 1662, which fact of itself 
was an indication of the popularity of scientific studies. By 
a chronicler of that time, we are told that " the King himself 
is not devoid of this curiosity, nay, he has caused a famous 
chymist to be brought over from Paris, for whom he hath built 
a ver}^ fine elaboratory in St. James' Park." Charles himself 
conferred upon the new society the name "Royal." Fifty 
years before, Bacon, denying the authority of tradition, had 
pointed out to mankind the necessity of practical research, and 
actual experiment in discovering scientific truths. Yet, in 
the age of which we now are speaking, other countries were 
in advance of England in the study of physical science. Pre- 
vious to the Restoration only one great discovery had been 
made in England, that of the circulation of the blood, by Har- 
vey, in 1619. 

But a great genius now appeared in Sir Isaac IS^ewton" 



168 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



(1642-1727), whose theory of the universe gives him rank as the 
first of philosophers. His discoveries were mainly in mechanics, 
astronomy, and optics. At the age of twenty-three he discov- 
ered the binomial theorem ; the next year, 1665, he invented 
the theory of fluxions (differential and integral calculus), and 
in the next year, at the age of twenty-five, demonstrated the 
law of gravitation. Three years afterwards, in 1669, he made 
his great discoveries in optics, dividing light into rays of seven 
colors, possessing different degrees of refrangibility. His theory 
of the universe was written in Latin and entitled the Principia. 
It was published in 1687 by the Royal Society. His treatise on 
Optics was not published until several years afterwards.* 

Among the scientists of this period was Robert Boyle 
(1626-1691), at whose house the men of science, who after- 
wards formed the Royal Society, held their first meetings. 
Boyle's investigations in chemistry were of great importance. 
Associated with him in his chemical experiments was his friend 
Robert Hooke. In medical science, after the name of Har- 
ve}^ the discoverer of the circulation of the blood, stands that 
of Dr. Thomas Sydei^ham. The study of botany received a 
new impulse from the classification of plants by John Ray. 
In astronomy, Halley is ranked by some as second to 
Newton. 

The philosophical writer of this period, who has contributed 
most to literature, is John Locke (1632-1704). His JEssay on 
Human Understanding was the first attempt to popularize the 
study of mental science or metaphysics. This work was the 
result of much observation and mature reflection, being in 
process of composition eighteen years. Denying the existence 
of innate ideas, or ideas existing in the mind independent of 
nnpressions made by the senses, Locke attributes all ideas to 
two sources, sensation and reflection. 

Besides the essay on Human Understanding, Locke wrote an 
Essay on Education^ on Toleration^ and a treatise on the Beason- 
ahleness of Christianity. His language is invariably clear and 
simple. 



* Newton was made president of the Royal Society in 1703, and was knighted by 
Queen Anne in 1705. 



WRITERS ON THEOLOGY. 



169 



Writers on Theology. 

Among the writers on theology at this time were Kobert 
South, Thomas Ken, John Tillotson, Thomas Burnet, 
and William Penn. 

Robert South (1633-1716) was called the "wittiest Church- 
man of his time, and was a favorite preacher with the court of 
Charles II. His flatter}^ of this monarch was as great as his 
adulation of Cromwell had been when the Puritan power was 
dominant. 

John Tillotson (1630-1694) was another who made himself 
" agreeable to authority," rising in the church by his conformity 
to the ruling powers. 

Thomas Burnet (1635-1715) lost all chance of high pro- 
motion in the church by his attempt to blend the study of 
science with Scripture, and by considering " the Fall of Adam 
as an Allegory." 

William Penn (1644-1718), next to Barclay of Ury, was the 
most prominent advocate of the doctrines of Quakerism, and, 
like Barclay, he was thrown into prison for his belief. For his 
father's services to the crown, William Penn received a grant 
of land in America, the history of which is too well known to 
repeat. 

Among the miscellaneous prose writers of this time was 
Gilbert Burnet (1643-1715), a Scotch poUtician and divine, 
who held a middle course in both politics and theology, and 
was one of the most celebrated extempore preachers of his day. 
His fame, as a writer, rests, mainly, upon a History of his Own 
Times, which, according to his wish, was not published until 
several years after his death. This work, which views current 
events from a Whig standpoint, presents a strong contrast to 
the history of Clarendon, published a short time before. It is 
as minute, and probably more accurate, than Clarendon's His- 
tory of the Great Behellion. Owing to Burnet's sympathy with 
the patriot, Lord William Russell, who was executed on a 
false charge of complicity in the R3^e House Plot, he was re- 
garded by the Stuarts as an enemy, and, until the accession of 
William and Mary, he remained abroad. 
15 



170 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



ALaERNOK Sidney (1621-1683) was another patriot, who, 
for his love of liberty and hatred of tyranny, was executed, 
like Lord Russell, on a false accusation of being connected with 
the Rye House Plot. He wrote Discourses Concerning Government. 

The hfe of Sir Roger L 'Estrange (1616-1704) forms a 
striking contrast to that of Algernon Sidney. Unscrupulous 
in politics, he defended all the enormities of the court of 
Charles II. Besides his political writings L'Estrange trans- 
lated a number of works from the ancient classics. 

The Diaries of John Eyelyn (1620-1705) and Samuel 
Pepys (1632-1703) have been the means of throwing much 
light upon the public and private manners of the time. They 
were not discovered, at least not published, till more than a 
hundred years after the death of the writers. John Evelyn 
was one of the earliest members of the Royal Society, and wrote 
for it several treatises. Of these his Sylva., or Forest Trees, is 
most noted. Pepys's Diary extends from the year 1659 to 1669. 
Ifc is an invaluable aid in the study of the history of this period, 
presenting, as it does, in the most natural and unconscious 
manner, the actors in the stage of real life. The style is quaint 
and chatty. We learn the private details of his own house- 
hold and the public and private news of the court ; we grow in- 
terested with him in the extent and variety of his toilet, or in 
his wife's domestic difficulties ; as well as in the proceedings of 
the Royal Society or the politics of the nation. Pepys was a 
faithful public servant. For a number of years he was Sec- 
retary of the Admiralty. 

Sir William Temple (1628-1699) has probably occupied a 
higher niche in the history of literature than he actually 
deserves. Dr. Johnson considered him as " the first writer 
who gave cadence to English prose," and succeeding critics 
have echoed the sentiment until the writings of Sir William 
Temple have been considered as models of rhetorical style, in- 
stead of " oratorical bombast," reflecting the tastes of the times.* 
His works are mostly in the form of essays. His Essay upon 

* Temple was even more distinguished as a diplomatist than as a writer. The great 
Triple Alliance between England, Holland, and Sweden was brought about by him. 
Through his negotiations the marriage of William of Orange and Mary eldest 
daughter of the Duke of York was also attributed. 



LITERATURE OF THE RESTORATION. 171 



Ancient and Modern Learning caused great excitement among 
literary critics of England. It was suggested by a French 
work written at that time to extol the great literary age of 
Louis XIY., which the writer, Charles Perrault,* insisted 
excelled the age of Pericles or Augustus. Besides his Essay 
on Ancient and Modern Learning, Temple wrote Essays on 
Heroic Virtue., on Poetry., on Gardening., on Government., on 
Health and Long Life., and Observations upon the United Prov- 
inces of the Netherlands. 

With the accession of William and Mary the claim of the 
"divine rights of kings" ended, and the House of Commons 
obtained supreme power, f 

Illustrations of the Literature of tlie Restoration. 

DRYDEN. 

On Milton.J 
Three poets in three distant ages bom, 
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. 
The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd; 
The next in majesty ; in both the last. 
The force of nature could no further go ; 
To make a third, she join'd the other two. 

* "We must," said the Frenchman, "have more knowledge than the ancients, be- 
cause we have the advantage both of theirs and our own ; just as a dwarf standing 
upon a giant's shoulders sees more and farther than he." It was to controvert this 
idea of the superiority of the moderns over the ancients that Temple wrote his Essay ; 
but unfortunately for his show of learning, in adducing proofs of the superiority of 
the ancients he cited the works of an old Greek,— Phalaris, known, even at that 
time, to be spurious and valueless in a literary point of view. This led to disputes 
and dissertations, and, later, caused one of the greatest literary controversies that had 
occurred in England. To the great importance attached to the old Greek writer by 
this discussion, a new edition of the works of Phalaris was brought out by Charles 
Boyle, nephew of the philosopher. This was soon to be attacked by one of the finest 
Greek scholars in England, Richard Bentley, who proved it a forgery. Boyle had able 
supporters, among them Dean Swift, who, having lived in the family of Sir William 
Temple, came into the field as an antagonist of Bentley's. In Swift's Battle of the 
Books, Bentley and others who had opposed Temple are severely ridiculed. 

fit was during the political troubles of the reign of Charles II. that the terms 
"Whig " and "Tory" originated, designating respectively the upholders of popular 
power, and the supporters of the King. The term "Jacobite " meant a follower of 
•Tames II. and the two Pretenders. 

X Printed under a portrait of Milton prefixed to Paradise Lost, folio 1688. 



172 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 

I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem 
to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting 
myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble, or a prettier shell 
than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered be- 
fore me. 

LOCKE. 

We are born with faculties and powers capable almost of anything, 
such, at least, as would carry us farther than can be easily imagined ; 
but it is only the exercise of those powers which gives us ability and 
skill in any thing, and leads us towards perfection. 

A middle-aged ploughman will scarce ever be brought to the carriage 
and language of a gentleman, though his body be as well proportioned, 
and his joints as supple, and his natural parts not any way inferior. 
The legs of a dancing-master, and the fingers of a musician, fall, as it 
were, naturally, without thought or pains, into regular and admirable 
motions. Bid them change their parts, and they will in vain endeavor 
to produce like motions in the members not used to them, and it will 
require length of time and long practice to attain but some degrees of a 
like ability. What incredible and astonishing actions do we find rope- 
dancers and tumblers bring their bodies to! not but that sundry in 
almost all manual arts are as wonderful ; but I name those which the 
world takes notice of for such, because, on that very account, they give 
money to see them. All these admired motions, beyond the reach and 
almost the conception of unpractised spectators, are nothing but the 
mere effects of use aiid industry in men, whose bodies have nothing 
peculiar in them from those of the amazed lookers on. 

As it is in the body, so it is in the mind ; practice makes it what it 
is ; and most even of those excellencies which are looked on as natural 
endowments, will be found, when examined into more narrowly, to be 
the product of exercise, and to be raised to that pitch only by repeated 
actions. 

Nature commonly lodges her treasures and jewels in rocky ground. 
If the matter be knotty, and the sense lies deep, the mind must stop and 
buckle to it, and stick upon it with labor and thought, and close con- 
templation, and not leave it until it has mastered the difficulty and 
got possession of truth. But here, care must be taken to avoid the 
other extreme : a man must not stick at every useless nicety, and expect 
mysteries of science in every trivial question or scruple that he may 
raise. He that will stand to pick up and examine every pebble that 



LITERATURE OF THE RESTORATION. 173 



comes in his way, is as unlikely to return enriched and laden with 
jewels, as the other that travelled full speed. Truths are not the better 
nor the worse for their obviousness or difficulty, but their value is to 
be measured by their usefulness and tendency. Insignificant observa- 
tions should not take up any of our minutes ; and those that enlarge 
our view, and give light towards further and useful discoveries, should 
not be neglected, though they stop our course, and spend some of our 
time in a fixed attention. 

GILBERT BURNET. 

From History of My Own Times. 

His Estimate of Charles II. 

His person and temper, his vices as well as his fortunes, resemble the 
character that we have given us of Tiberius so much, that it were easy 
to draw the parallel between them. Tiberius' banishment, and his com- 
ing afterwards to reign, makes the comparison in that respect come 
pretty near. His hating of business, and his love of pleasures; his 
raising of favorites and trusting them entirely ; and his pulling them 
down and hating them excessively ; his art of covering deep designs, 
particularly of revenge, with an appearance of softness, brings them so 
near a likeness, that I did not wonder much to observe the resemblance 
of their faces and persons. At Kome, I saw one of the last statues 
made for Tiberius. 

% * ^ V: ¥r ^ -H- 

No part of his character looked wickeder, as well as meaner, than that 
he, all the while that he was professing to be of the Church of England, 
expressing both zeal and affection for it, was yet secretly reconciled to 
the Church of Kome. 

William of Orange. 

His behavior was solemn and serious, seldom cheerful, and but with 
a few. He spoke little, and very slowly, and most commonly Avith a 
disgusting dryness, which was his character at all times, excejDt in a 
day of battle ; for then he was all fire, though without passion. He 
was then everywhere, and looked to everything. He had no great ad- 
vantage from his education. De Witt's discourses weie of great use to 
him ; and he, being apprehensive of the observation of those who were 
looking narrowly into everything he said or did, had brought himself 
under an habitual caution that he could never shake off, though, in 
another sense, it proved as hurtful as it was then necessary to his affairs. 
15* 



174 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



He spoke Dutch, French, English, and German equally well ; and he 
understood the Latin, Spanish, and Italian ; so that he was well fitted 
to command armies composed of several nations. He had a memory 
that amazed all about him, for it never failed him. He was an exact 
-.observer of men and things. His strength lay rather in a true discern- 
ing and sound judgment than in imagination or invention. His designs 
were always great and good ; but it was thought he trusted too much to 
that, and that he did not descend enough to the humors of his people 
to make himself and his notions more acceptable to them. This, in a 
government that has so much of freedom in it as ours, was more neces- 
sary than he was inclined to believe. His reservedness grew on him ; 
so that it disgusted most of those who served him. But he had ob- 
served the errors of too much talking more than those of too cold a 
silence. He did not like contradiction, nor to have his actions censured ; 
but he loved to employ and favor those who had the arts of complai- 
sance ; yet he did not love flatterers. His genius lay chiefly in war, in 
which his courage was more admired than his conduct. Great errors 
were often committed by him ; but his heroical courage set things right, 
as it inflamed those who were about him. He was too lavish of money 
on some occasions, both in his buildings and to his favorites ; but too 
sparing in rewarding services, or in encouraging those who brought 
intelligence. He was apt to take ill impressions of people, and these 
stuck long with him ; but he never carried them to indecent revenges. He 
gave too much way to his own humor almost in everything, not excepting 
that which related to his own health. He knew all foreign affairs well, 
and understood the state of every court in Europe very particularly. 
He instructed his own ministers himself ; but he did not apply enough 
to afiairs at home. He believed the truth of the Christian religion very 
firmly, and he expressed a horror of atheism and blasphemy; and 
though there was much of both in his court, yet it was always denied 
to him and kept out of his sight. 

JOHN EVELYN. 

From his Diary. 
The Last Sunday of Charles II. 

I can never forget the inexpressible luxury, and profaneness, gaming 
and all dissoluteness, and, as it were, total forgetfulness of God — it being 
Sunday evening — which this day se'en night I was witness of — the king 
sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleveland, and 
Mazarin, etc., a French boy singing love songs in that glorious gallery, 



LITERATURE OF THE RESTORATION. 



175 



whilst about twenty of the great courtiers and other dissolute persons 
were at basset round a large table, a bank of at least £1000 in gold 
before them, upon which two gentlemen who were with me made re- 
flections with astonishment. Six days after, all was in the dust. 

SAMUEL PEPYS. 
From his Diary. 

Sept. 1st, 1660. — I did send for a cup of tee (a China drink) of which 
I never had drank before. 

Oct. 20th. — I dined with my Lord and Lady ; he was very merry and 
did talk very high how he would have a French cooke, and a master 
of his horse, and his lady and child to wear black patches. * * * jjg 
is become a perfect courtier. ^ ^ This afternoon going through Lon- 
don, and calling at Crowe's the Upholsterer's, I saw limbs of some of 
our new traytors set upon Aldersgate, which was a sad sight ; and a 
bloody week this and the last have been, there being ten hanged, drawn 
and quartered. 

Oct. 19th, 1662 (Lord's day). — Put on my first new lace band, and so 
neat it is, that I am resolved my great expense shall be lace bands, and it 
will set off anything else the more. I am sorry to hear that the news 
of the selling of Dunkirke is taken so generally ill, as I find it is among 
the merchants. 

Oct. 24th. — Mr. Pierce, the chyrurgeon, tells me how ill things go at 
Court ; that the king do show no countenance to any that belong to the 
Queen. 

May 10th, 1663. — Put on a black cloth suit with white lynings under 
all, as the fashion is to wear, to appear under the breeches. 

19th. — Waked with a very high wind and said to my wife, " I pray 
God I hear not the death of any great person, this wind is so high ! " 
fearing that the Queen might be dead. So up and by coach to St. 
James's and hear that Sir W. Compton died yesterday. 

22d. — This morning, hearing that the Queene grows worse again, I 
sent to stop the making of my velvet cloak, till I see whether she lives 
or dies. 

March 13th, I664. — This day my wife began to wear light-colored locks, 
quite white ahnost, which, though it makes her look very pretty, yet not 
being natural vexes me, that I will not let her wear them. 

August 7th. — I saw several poor creatures ^ carried by, by constables, for 
being at a conventicle. They go like lambs, without any resistance. 
I would to God they would either conform, or be more wise and not be 
catched. 



176 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



August 31st, 1665. — It is feared that the true number of the dead this 
week is near ten thousand, partly from the poor that cannot be taken 
notice of, through the greatness of the number, and partly from the 
Quakers and others, that will not have any bell ring for them. 

23d. — In the street did overtake two women crying and carrying a 
man's coffin between them, I suppose the husband of one of them, 
which, methinks, is a sad thing. 

November 20th, 1666. — To church, it being thanksgiving day for the 
cessation of the plague ; but. Lord ! how the town do say that it is 
hastened before the plague is quite over, there being some people still 
ill of it, but only to get ground of plays to be quickly acted, which the 
bishops would not suffer till the plague was over. 

February 2d, 1667. — I am very weU pleased this night with reading a 
poem I brought home with me last night from Westminster Hall, of 
Dryden's, upon the present war ; a very good poem. 

March 2d, 1667. — After dinner with my wife to the king's house to see 
the " Mayden Queene," a new play of Dryden's, mightily commended 
for the regularity of it, and the strain of wit ; and the truth is, there is 
a comical part done by Nell, which is Florimell, that I never can hope 
ever to see the like done again by man or woman. The King and Duke 
of York were at the play. But so great a performance of a comical part 
Avas never, I believe, in the world before as Nell do this, both as a mad 
girle, then most and best of all when she comes in like a young gallant, 
and hath the motions and carriage of a spark the most that ever I saw 
any man have. It makes me, I confess, admire her. 

December 29th, 1667. — At night comes Mrs. Turner to see us ; and there, 
among other talk, she tells me that Mr. William Penn, who is lately 
come over from Ireland, is a Quaker again, or some very melancholy 
thing. 

May 30th, 1668. — Up and put on a new summer black bombazin suit ; 
and being come now to an agreement with my barber to keep my perri- 
wig in good order at 20s. a year, I am like to go very spruce, more than 
I used to do. To the King's Playhouse, and there saw " Philaster," 
where it is pretty to see how I could remember almost all along ever 
since I was a boy, Arethusa, the part which I was to have acted at Sir 
Robert Cooke's ; and it was very pleasant to me, but more to think what 
a ridiculous thing it would have been for me to have acted a beautiful 
woman. 

September 3d. — To my booksellers for "Hobb's Leviathan," which is 
now mightily called for ; and what was heretofore sold for 8s., I now 
give 24s. at the second hand, and is sold for 30s., it being a book the 
bishops will not let be printed again. 



SYLLABUS. 



177 



Syllabus. 

The court of Charles II. in England copied the manners of the court of 
Louis XIV. of France. 
Charles II. was succeeded by his brother James II. 
James II. being a Catholic was compelled to abdicate. 
The Protestant William and Mary succeeded. 
The prevailing taste in literature was low. 

Theatres were reopened on the accession of Charles II. (1660)— the 
Corrupt Drama ensued. 
Shakespeare's plays ceased to please. 

Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, had had no guidance in writing 
but their own genius. 
This age sought methods, rules. 

Dryden was the founder of a correct style or a critical school in writing. 
Dryden in character was a type of the age. 

Dryden's works, are, 1st. The Death of Cromioell ; 2d. Astrea Redux on 
the return of Charles 11. ; 3d. Annus Mirahilis ; 4th. Essay on Dramatic 
Poetry ; 5th. Absalom and Achitophel ; 6th. The 3Iedal ; 7th. MacFleck- 
noe; 8th. Religio Laici; 9th. The Hind and Panther ; 10th. Ode for St. 
Cecilia'' s Day ; 11th. Stories from Chaucer and Boccaccio ; 12th. Transla- 
tions, etc. 

The Artificial Age of poetry begins with Dryden. 

It was the Golden Age of French Literature. The three prominent 
French dramatists were Corneille, Eacine, and Moliere. 

English dramatists of the time were Dryden, Otway, Lee, Wycherly, Con- 
greve, Vanbrugh, Farquhar, Southerne, Nicholas, Eowe, etc. 

Congreve, Wycherly, and Etherege represented the " comedy of man- 
ners." 

Jeremy Collier reproved the dramatists. 

Inquiry was beginning to be made into Science, Eeligion, and Politics. 
The Eoyal Society was established. 
Newton was the great light in science. 

Other names in Science were Boyle, Hooke, Sydenham, Ray, Halley. 
In Metaphysics, John Locke. 

Writers on Theology were South, Ken, Tillotson, Burnet, and William 
Penn. 

Gilbert Burnet wrote a History of his Oivn Times. 
Algernon Sidney's life was a contrast to that of Eoger L'Estrange. 
The Diaries of Evelyn and Pepys throw light on the manners of the 
times. 

The writings of Sir AVm. Temple are bombastic. 
The growth of political and religious liberty began to be noticeable. 

M 



POPE 



CHAPTER VIII. 
The Augustan Age. 

1700-1727. 

THE period of literature now to be considered is usually 
styled the "Augustan Age," but in brilliancy of creative 
genius it can, in no respect, be compared with the Elizabethan 
period, nor with the age immediately preceding its own ; and 
in no way did it resemble the Augustan age of Roman litera- 
ture but in the patronage extended to authors, who, by the 
partisan spirit of their writings, kept alive the flame of ani- 
mosity which was raging between the political parties. 

The Revolution of 1688, which placed WiUiam and Mary on 
the throne, settled the British Constitution, defined the rights 
of the people and the prerogative of the King, and secured the 
Protestant Succession. At the death of William III., in 1702, 
Anne, the sister of Mary, succeeded to the throne. Her reign 
is distinguished by the military achievements of the Duke of 
Marlborough ' and the constitutional union of England and 
Scotland. Although since the first Stuart king of England 
(James I. of England and VI. of Scotland) these two coun- 
tries had acknowledged but one sovereign, their laws and 
Parliaments were distinct. In the new ratification the Scots 
were to send their commoners and peers to represent them 
in the English Parliament. Their own Presbyterian form of 
church government, their laws concerning propert}^, and the 
administration of justice they were to retain inviolate. With 
the death of Anne in 1714 the Stuart line of kings was 
ended. Kot one of her numerous children survived her, and 

178 



THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 



179 



the throne passed to the head of the Protestant Une of succes- 
sion, George I., of the House of Brunswick, or Hanover, great 
grandson of James I. The accession of the German king was 
opposed by the Tory and Jacobite leaders, who still hoped to 
place a Stuart on the throne, and favored the cause of the Pre- 
tender, as the son of James II. was called. The Whigs, who 
advocated the rights of the people rather than the rights of 
the crown, favored the accession of the Hanoverian line. 
During this reign Sir Eobert Walpole became Prime Minister, 
and "Whig rule prevailed. From 1721 to 1742 Walpole practi- j 
cally ruled England. During this reign the celebrated South \ 
Sea scheme originated, which, plausible as it seemed, was a 
fraudulent scheme, involving the financial ruin of thousands. 

The Augustan age of literature, usually limited to the twelve 
years of Anne's reign, though in reality comprising both the 
reigns of Anne and George, is better termed the age of Pope 
or Addison. These two, with Steele and Swift, were the 
principal writers of the time. It was far from being an age of 
general intelligence. It was a sequel to the preceding age, a 
moulding of the forces which had sprung into existence in 
Dryden's time. Open indecency was checked, but covert im- 
morahty practised. The flights of genius were curbed and 
made to conform to rule. The school of criticism begun by 
Dryden was, in this age, perfected by Pope. 

Poets. 

Alexander Pope (1688-1744), born twelve years before 
Dryden died, was a professed follower of Dryden. From his 
boyhood he cherished the most profound admiration for his 
chosen master, and it is curious to observe with what fidelity 
he copied and improved upon his original. Dryden wrote a 
prose essay on dramatic poetry ; Pope wrote, in verse, an 
Essay on Criticism. Dryden translated or reproduced some of 
Chaucer's poems. Pope as unsuccessfully tried the same. Dry- 
den translated Yirgil ; Pope translated Homer. Dryden wrote 
MacFlecknoe, a satire upon Shadwell ; Pope wrote the Dunciad, 
a kindred satire, a continuation, as it were, of MacFlecknoe, 
making the object of his satire Theobald, and afterwards 
CoLLEY Gibber, the successors of Shadwell to the throne of 



180 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Dulness. * The most remarkable of Pope 's imitations of Dry den 
is his Ode on St. Cecilia'' s Day. 

Pope was by no means a servile copyist. He seemed merely 
to prefer walking in the paths which others had trodden, glean- 
ing what they had left untouched, and perfecting, as far as in 
his power lay, all that came under his hand. His strength lay 
in accuracy. He was not a poet of " imagination all compact. " 
His mission was to teach correctness. To perfect the art which 
his great pattern commenced was no doubt a congenial work to 
Pope, and how thoroughly he established a school of criticism 
and correctness can be read in all the writings of that age and 
the next. 

The publication, in 1711, of the Essay on Criticism^ admitted 
Pope at once into the highest rank of authorship. This poem 
was suggested by Boileau's "Art of Poetry " (L'Art Poetique), 
and like that poem is compact with wise thoughts and terse 
expressions condensed into couplets. Following Boileau, Pope 
holds up as models of style the writers of the Augustan age of 
Roman literature. 

The Essay on Man, published twenty years afterwards, takes 
a wider range of thought. But here again thought and fancy 
are made subservient to art, and are cribbed and confined with- 
in the narrow couplet. But the skill of the writer is all the 
more triumphantly exhibited in the fact that, notwithstanding 
these fetters, he expressed as much wisdom and sound philos- 
ophy as he did. 

The Bape of the Lock is a humorous poem, celebrating an 
unforgiven act of Lord Petre, a courtier in Queen Anne's train, 
for stealing a lock of hair from the fair head of a maid of honor. 
The style of the poem is mock heroic. Its dedication to the 
lady, Mrs. Arabella Fermor, gives a quaint picture of the times 
in its flattery and derision of the ignorant beauties of the court : 

" Madam : — It will be in vain to deny that I have some regard for this 
piece, since I dedicate it to you. . . . An imperfect copy having been 
offered to a bookseller, you had the good nature for my sake to consent 

* This, like most of Pope's satires, was engendered in bitterness. Tlieobald had, 
at the same time with Pope, brought out an edition of Shakespeare. Towards CoUey 
Gibber, Pope had always an implacable dislike. By personal satires Pope submitted 
himself to the most humiliating warfare of words. Keenly sensitive to ridicule 
himself, he made satire his weapon of retaliation. 



THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 



181 



to the publication of one more correct. This I was forced to before I 
had executed half my design, for the machinery was entirely wanting 
to complete it. 

" The machinery, madam, is a term invented by critics, to signify that 
part which the deities, angels, or daemons are made to act in a poem ; 
for the ancient poets are in one respect like many modern ladies : let 
an action be never so trivial in itself, they always make it appear of 
the utmost importance. These machines I determined to raise on a 
very new and odd foundation, the Rosicrusian doctrine of spirits. 

" I know how disagreeable it is to make use of hard words before a 
lady ; but 't is so much the concern of a poet to have his works under- 
stood, and particularly by your sex, that you must give me leave to 
explain two or three difficult terms. The Eosicrusians are a people I 
must bring you acquainted with. The best account I know of them is 
in a French book called ' Le Comte de Gabalis,' which, both in its title 
and size, is so like a novel, that many of the fair sex have read it for one 
by mistake. According to these gentlemen, the four elements are in- 
habited by spirits, which they call sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and sala- 
manders. The gnomes or daemons of earth delight in mischief ; but 
the sylphs, whose habitation is in the air, are the best-conditioned crea- 
tures imaginable. 

"As to the following cantos, all the passages of them are as fabulous 
as the vision at the beginning, or the transformation at the end (except 
the loss of your hair, which I always mention with reverence). The 
human persons are as fictitious as the airy ones, and the character of 
Belinda resembles you in nothing but beauty. 

" If this poem had as many graces as there are in your person or in 
your mind, yet I could never hope it should pass through the world 
half so uncensured as you have done. 

" I am, madam, your most obedient, humble servant, 

A. Pope." 

Among Pope's earliest productions are his Pastorals, which 
he, it is said, considered his best efforts. Windsor Forest cele- 
brates the beauty of this early retreat of Pope, and the plan 
is borrowed from Denham's Cooper's Hill. His Messiah was 
an adaptation of Yirgil's Pollio. The Dying Christian to his 
Soul, an adaptation of the Emperor Adrian's Animula Yagula. 

Other poems were an imaginative Epistle of Eloisa to Abelard, 
Epistle of Sappho to Phaon, and an Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady. 
He composed a great many Epitapihs and innumerable Satires and 
Epistles. His Imitations of Horace were among his last works. 
16 



182 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



To be appreciated, Pope must be read by fragments. Each 
line or couplet is a gem — a crystallized thought. His finished 
style was attained only by incessant care and labor. He copied 
and recopied his verses, and, alas ! smoothed and polished until 
all exuberance of fancy disappeared— until, in the words of Dr. 
Johnson, his page was "a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe 
and levelled by the roller." 



* An elegant writer in Blackwood's Magazine has justly described the aims of three 
great representatives of three successive ages, Milton, Dryden, and Pope : 

"In the interval between the end of Milton and the beginning of Pope the art of 
song had suffered one of its many metamorphoses. It had changed from an inspired 
message into an elaborate chime of words. Milton — grand, harmonious, and musical 
as is his utterance at all times — was a man overflowing with high thought and lofty 
meaning, with so much to say to his generation that the mode of saying it might 
almost have been expected to become indifferent to him. It never did so, because 
of the inborn music of the man, that wonderful sense of melody in which he has 
never been surpassed, if, indeed, ever equalled, in the English tongue. But notwith- 
standing this great natural gift, his subject was the thing preeminent with him; and 
as his subject was of the highest importance and solemnity, so his verse rose into 
organ-floods of severest sweetness. Drj^den, who succeeded him, did not possess a 
similar inspiration. He had no message to the world to speak of, and yet he had a 
great deal to say. Accordingly with him the subject began to lower and the verse to 
increase in importance. In Pope this phase of poetry attained its highest develop- 
ment. With him everything gave way to beauty of expression. No prophetic bur- 
den was his to deliver. The music of the spheres had never caught his ear. Verse 
was the trade in which he was skilled, not the mere mode of utterance by which a 
mind overflowing with thoughts of heaven or earth communicated these thoughts to 
its fellows. He was an admirable performer upon an instrument the most delicate 
and finest-toned which humanity possessed. His power on it was such that the most 
trivial motif, the most mean topic became, in his hands, an occasion of harmony. We 
confess without hesitation that the music of Pope's verse does not enchant and en- 
thral our particular ear, but it did that of his own generation. It belonged, as does 
so much of the poetry of France, to an age more marked by culture than by nature ; 
building upon certain doctrines and tenets of literary belief; trusting in style as in 
a confession of faith, and establishing as strict a severance between the orthodox and 
heterodox in literature, as ever a community of ecclesiastics has done in a religious 
creed. Perhaps that was the only period of English literature in which an academy 
would have been possible. Pope made himself the poetic standard of the age. His 
contemporaries were measured by it as by a rule ; and no one came up to the height 
of the great master. He gave to his generation a stream of melodious words, such 
as might have made the whole country sweet, but which, unfortunately, being often 
employed to set forth nauseous or trifling subjects, gave no nobility to the mind of 
his period, but only a mathematical music — something which touched the ear rather 
than the heart. But in Pope his school came to a close. It was impossible to do any- 
thing finer, more subtle, or more perfect in the art of combining words. If there had 
been given to him a message to deliver, probably he would not have reached to such 
perfection in the mode of delivering it ; but as it was, he brought to its highest fulfil- 
ment and completion the poetical style of which he was capable." 



THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 



183 



Pope was bom in London, of Eoman Catholic parents. Deli- 
cate from childhood, and of misshapen form, he grew up mor- 
bid and sensitive. From London the family removed to Wind- 
sor Forest, and after the death of his father, to Twickenham, 
which home became the object of the poet's love and attention. 
Here, until her death, he bestowed that tender care upon his 
mother, which was a fit return for her incessant devotion to 
him. Here he received his admiring friends,* and here he made 
lasting enemies ; for Pope, while the warmest and truest of 
friends, was the most irritable of authors. Lady Mary Wort- 
ley Montague, who was at one time one of Pope's most ad- 
mired literary friends, became at last his professed enemy, as 
he became hers. 

Pope mingled but little in religious or political controversies. 
In a letter to Bishop Atterbury, he says : 

And, after all, I verily believe your lordship and I are both of the 
same religion, if we were thoroughly understood by one another, and 
that all honest and reasonable Christians would be so if they did 
but talk enough together every day ; and had nothing to do together 
but to serve God, and live in peace with their neighbor. 

" I am not a Papist, for I renounce the temporal invasions of the Papal 
power, and detest their arrogated authority over princes and states. I 
am a Catholic in the strictest sense of the word. If I was born under 
an absolute prince, I would be a quiet subject; but I thank God I 
was not. I have a due sense of the excellence of the British constitu- 
tion. In a word, the things I have always wished to see are, not a Eo- 
man Catholic, or a French Catholic, or a Spanish Catholic, but a true 
Catholic ; and not a king of Whigs, or a king of Tories, but a king of 
England." 

Pope enjoyed the friendship of the best minds of his day. 
Addison, however, otfended him by preferring Tickell's trans- 
lation of Homer, which appeared at the same time with Pope's. 
For this he received the lash of Pope's ever ready satire. It is 
to Addison he refers in the epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot : 

" Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, 
Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike. 



* His friendship for Miss Martha Blount, or Mrs. Martha Blount, as the etiquette 
of the time called unmarried ladies, was lifelong and romantic. 



184 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



*Who when two wits on rival themes contest, 
Approves of both, but likes the worse the best.* 
Like Cato, give his little senate laws, 
And sit attentive to his own applause." 

Swift and Pope lived on terms of intimacy all their lives, 
although when Swift was on a visit to Twickenham " he found 
that two sick friends could not live in the house together." 

The age was too keen and critical for poetry to thrive. It 
ignored the fact that it is genius, not art, that makes the poet. 
But few exceptions can be found. One was Allan Ramsay 
(1686-1758), the son of a poor Scotch workman. With native 
instinct, his taste led him into descriptions of natural scenery 
and rustic manners. Of his own genius, he says : 

"My Pegasus wad break his tether, 
E'en at the shagging of a feather, 
And through ideas scour like drift, 
Streaking his wings up to the lift." f 

Among Allan Ramsay's first contributions to literature were 
the Tea-Table Miscellany^ a collection of songs, partly his own, 
and a collection of early Scotch poetry, which he entitled The 
Evergreen. Among his well known lyric poems are The Last 
Time I Came o''er the Moor, The Yellow-haired Lassie, and 
Lochaher no More. He is best known, however, by his Ge^itle 
Shepherd, a pastoral drama. It is said to be a genuine picture 
of Scottish life, and is refreshing from its very contrast to the 
studied, artificial poetry of the times. Yet even Ramsay could 
not forbear to yield to the popular taste, and his hero and 
heroine in humble life must needs turn out in the end to be of 
" gentle " blood. 

Another artless poet of this time was John Gay (1688-1732), who 
began his literary career by the publication of a poem, entitled Rui^al 
Sports. This being dedicated to Pope, the two poets became friends, 
and at Pope's instigation, Gay wrote his six pastorals entitled The Shep- 
herd's Week. The object was to burlesque the six Pastorals of Am- 
brose Phillips.! 

*This couplet is expunged in later editions, 
t Heavens, from heofon, to heave, to lift. 

J The age, desirous of distinction in classic literature, shovrs repeated attempts and 
failures in rivalling the ancients in pastoral poetry. 

V 



THE DRAMA. 



185 



Gay, after the publication of the Shepherd's Week, published his 
celebrated Fables. His most successful work, however, was the Beggars' 
Opera. This was a burlesque on the fashionable Italian opera. The 
characters are all from low life. It was written at the suggestion of 
Swift, and is offensive to refined tastes, but its natural elasticity and 
gayety made it a relief from the prevailing conventional proprieties 
of the opera, which had nearly driven the legitimate drama from the 
stage. The Beggars' Opera, by the introduction of a number of beauti- 
ful and popular airs, and by exchanging the recitative of the opera for 
the colloquial language of the ruder people, was received with the 
greatest applause. It was brought out at the Drury Lane Theatre, by 
Rich, the manager, when it was humorously observed that this success- 
ful opera had " made Gay rich, and Eich gay." Gay's simple, childlike 
character is best described in the opening lines of .his epitaph by Pope : 



Matthew Prior (1664-1721), whose wit was at first used in the 
interest of the Whigs, came into literary notice by the publication of a 
burlesque on Dryden's Hind and Panther, entitled The Country and the_ 
City Mouse. In this work he was assisted by Charles Montague. 
Prior's most popular poems were his love songs. 

Other poets of this time were Thomas Parnell (1679-1717), mainly 
noted for his poem, The Hermit, a story based upon a very old tale ; Dr. 
Isaac Watts (1674-1748), the famous hymn writer; Sir Eichard 
Blackmore, and Eobert Blair. 

The poets of this age are called the Artificial Poets. Their 
style, based upon the classical writers of antiquity, was fin- 
ished, cold, and artificial. This style, inaugurated by Dryden, 
had been growing for half a century, and culminated in the 
reign of Queen Anne. 'No sonnets were written during this 
period. The age was given over to satire and to classical imi- 
tations. 



In dramatic literature, Congreve still ruled the stage. 
SouTHERNE, Vanbrugh, and RowE, mentioned in the pre- 
ceding chapter, belong equally well to the Augustan age ; and 
Colly Gibber (1671-1757), who, by offending Pope, was created 
by him the hero of his Dunciad, acted and wrote for the stage 
from the first year after the Revolution (1689) until nearly the 




Of manners gentle, of affections mild, 
In wit a man ; simplicity, a child." 



The Drama. 



16* 



186 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



close of his long life. Susanna Cextlivre (1667-1723) was 
an actress, and wrote for the stage a number of plays. The 
best known are, A Bold Stroke for a Wife, The Busy-Body^ and 
The Wonder. 

Prose Writers. 
SWIFT, ADDISON, STEELE, ETC. 

This classical age, while too keen and critical for poetry, was 
an admirable school for prose. The very endeavor to express 
thoughts in clear, correct language, caused clearer and more 
accurate thinking. 

Among the most vigorous prose writers of this age was 
Jonathan Swift (1667-1745). His principal vein was satire, 
and his ready pen was employed in the interest of Tory or 
Whig, as his whim or conviction favored. His undoubted 
genius and ability made him a powerful ally on whichever 
side the weight of his influence was cast, but his writings are 
disfigured by coarseness of the lowest order, so that, except for 
the unsurpassed wit, they are repellent to the taste of the 
present age. 

A willing dependent on the charity of others, never having 
acquired the manly spirit of self-support, we trace Swift through 
his childhood and early manhoOd, and find him under the roof 
of his distant relative. Sir William Temple, in the capacity of 
secretary to that gentleman. Quitting this home, he took orders 
in the Irish Church, and, although ambitious of a bishopric, 
he never rose higher than to a deanery. Swift himself fore- 
stalled his advancement in the church by writing his Tale of a 
Tub. The title is in no way significant of the character of 
the work, but means simply an absurd story, the phrase having 
been used for that by English writers of a very early day. 
Swift's tale was a satire on the three different forms of church 
government — Koman Catholic, represented by Peter ; Lutheran 
by Martin ; and Calvinists, or Dissenting, by Jack. These three 
are brothers, to whom their father, in dying, had bequeathed 
each a coat. As time passes, the fashion of each coat changes, 
but is greatly modified by the character of the wearer. Peter 
covers his coat with tinsel and embroidery, Martin makes com- 
promises in the trimming of his, while Jack impatiently tears off 
* 



PROSE WRITERS. 



187 



all the embroidery which, while under Peter's influence, he had 
put on, and in his violence tears off also some of the cloth of 
which the coat is made. 

While enjoying the patronage of Temple, Swift wrote his 
Battle of the Books, a witty satire on the opponents of Temple 
in the celebrated contest concerning the relative merits of 
the ancient and modern writers, to which allusion has been 
made in the preceding chapter. 

Swift's duties as the Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, were not 
congenial, nor was he at all popular with the Irish people, un- 
til at last, by his powers as a combatant, he aroused them to 
oppose a measure of the English Parliament. This one act is 
usually lauded as the great deed of Swift's hfe, whereas, 
the truth stands simply thus : The Irish nation, unsupplied 
with proper coins for currency, had been using almost anything 
as a medium of exchange, until the English ministry gave to 
one William Wood a contract for coining a certain amount of 
copper money, to be put into immediate circulation in Ireland, 
which would certainly have been much better than the irregu- 
lar currency used before. But Swift, with his combative ge- 
nius and specious arguments, succeeded in inflaming the Irish 
people to such an extent against the English, and against Wood- 
especially, that the act was repealed. Swif\;'s letters against the 
act were published in a Dubhn newspaper. They were signed 
M. B. Drapier, but it was soon known that Swift was the 
author of them. They are known in literature as the Drcqoier 
Letters. 

Swift was on intimate terms with Pope, Gay, and Arbuthnot, 
and together they formed the Scriblerus Club, their object being 
" to ridicule all the false tastes in learning, under the character 
of a man of capacity enough, that had dipped into every art 
and science, but injudiciously in each." Gulliver'' s Travels, the 
best known of all of Swift's works, had its origin in this club. 
It is a satire on English politics, English people — in fact, a 
satire on the human race. Eid of its coarse features, it becomes 
for children a charming story of pigmies and giants. 

Swift wrote innumerable "verses," but no poetry. His na- 
ture was at enmity with the genius of poetry. His rhymes are 
perfect, the measure complete, but they lack the one essential 



188 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



quality of true poetry, fine feeling, and pure imagination. His 
Verses on his Own Death are very remarkable productions of 
their kind. 

While at Sir William Temple's, Swift formed an attach- 
ment for a young girl to whom he stood in the relation of 
tutor, and to whom he gave the romantic name of " Stella." 
The attachment ripened with years, and nothing but the 
plea of insanity can excuse his inexplicable treatment of her. 
Nor was Stella the only victim of Swift's selfish conduct. 
Another, whom in his romantic fancy he styled "Vanessa," 
died literally of a broken heart. It is no wonder that on the 
death of Stella he said, "It is time for me to be out of the 
world." He became morbid, hating the sight of a human face, 
losing his memory, his ability to read or even to talk. He be- 
came a maniac, and at last utterly imbecile. Several instances 
are given of his knowledge of his approaching insanity. The 
most curious result of this knowledge was his singular will, in 
which he bequeathed £10,000 to build an asylum for the insane 
and for idiots. Yet even of that he jests in his Verses on his 
Own Death : 

" He gave the little wealth he had 
To build a house for fools and mad; 
To shew, by one satiric touch, 
No nation needed it so much." 

Like issuing from a noisome fen to the genial sunlight, is the 
transition from Swift to Joseph Addison (1672-1719). Al- 
though Swift had unquestionably the greater genius, he left 
no work of heart or head for which mankind to-day can be 
grateful. Addison, on the contrary, wrote to make others 
better. In short, he "made virtue fashionable," and that in 
an age which was polishing, not correcting, the vices of the 
preceding age. He was not universal, scarcely broad, in his 
sympathies, nor was he profound in knowledge or wisdom. 
He had culture, pure classic tastes, and refined instincts, and 
he had, besides, a " message " to the world. 

In conjunction with Steele, he created a new species of lit- 
erature — the Periodical Essay. Steele began the Taller in 1709, 
and Addison joined him in the Spectator early in 1711. The 
Tatler was a penny paper, published three times a week ; the 



PROSE WRITERS. 



189 



Spectator was published daily, and was likewise a penny paper, 
until a half-penny stamp duty raised its price to two pence. 
The Spectator excluded politics and devoted itself more to lit- 
erary discussions, rural studies, and thoughts on morals and 
manners. The wit of Addison was without bitterness. "He 
was," in the language of Macaulay, "the great satirist who 
alone knew how to use ridicule without abusing it, who, with- 
out inflicting a wound, elfected a great social reform, and who 
reconciled wit and virtue after a long and disastrous separation, 
during which wit had been led astray by profligacy and virtue 
by fanaticism." 

The Spectator was represented as being under the direction 
of a club, and Sir Koger de Coverly, the English country gen- 
tleman, was one of its imaginary members. This character, 
conceived by Steele, was usually filled out by Addison. The 
Spectator^ as conducted by Steele and Addison, ended in 1712. 
Addison made an attempt to revive it shortly afterwards, but 
did not succeed for any length of time. Both Addison and 
Steele afterwards contributed largely to the Guardian^ which 
succeeded the Spectator. Addison's political journals were the 
Freeholder and the Examiner, and even in these he preserved 
the tone of good breeding, gentleness, and moderation.^" 

Addison's first literary attempts were in poetry. He had 
won distinction while at Oxford for his Latin verses, and on 
entering the literary world he made successful hits by dedica- 
tions to eminent men and by praises of their actions. He be- 
came at once the recipient of government patronage. At the 
death of William III. Whig support was for a while withdrawn 
from him, and he lived in "dignified poverty" in the garret of 
an obscure lodging in Hay market. This turn of affairs was 
but temporary. The great battle of Blenheim was fought in 
1704, and the victorious English sought to immortalize the 
event and the great conqueror, the Duke of Marlborough. 
Addison was requested to celebrate in song the victory of 
Blenheim. He responded in his poem known as The Campaign. 
This established his reputation, and he was rewarded by an 
important office under the Whig ministry. 

* " Addison's work was a great one, lightly done. The Spectator, the Guardian, and 
^^Khe F)-eeMlder, in his hands, gave a better tone to manners, and a gentler one to polit- 



190 HISTORY OF WGLISH LITERATURE. 



One of Addison's earliest poems, An Account of the Greatest 
English Poets., shows him to be deficient not only in poetic fire, 
but in appreciation, as he fails to mention Shakespeare ! Some 
of his later poems, several short hymns, published in the Spec- 
tator, are admirable in thought and expression. Nothing could 
be finer than his Ode beginning, 

"The spacious firmament on high." 

Towards the end of Anne's reign, when party spirit was run- 
ning high, Addison produced his tragedy of Cato. Its popu- 
larity was immense, both Whig and Tory applauding, each 
thinking the sentiments of their own party were reflected in it. 
The play is a grand poem, but has not sufiicient natural emo- 
tion to make it a complete dramatic work. 

Addison was unhappy in his marriage with a lady of high 
degree, the Countess of Warwick, to whose son he had formerly 
been tutor. He died four years afterwards, at their stately resi- 
dence, the Holland House, since so famous in literary history. 

Addison appears as a bright and shining light in the age in 
which he lived ; and yet his life would scarcely be approved in 
this age of " purer manners." He was by no means free from 
the vices of his time. 

Inseparably connected with the name of Addison stands that 
of KiCHARD Steele (1671-1729). They were classmates as 
boys at the celebrated Charter-house school in London, and 
afterwards at Oxford, where they formed an enduring friend- 
ship. Steele was of a more volatile turn of mind, gay, affable, 
and ever ready in sympathy with human nature in every as- 
spect. 

Steele did not seek the patronage of the great. He was 
daring, wild, impulsive, given to pleasure, and reckless in its 
pursuit. In the wildest, most extravagant period of his life, he 
wrote his most serious work, entitled The Christian Hero. This, 
he said, was "principally to fix upon his mind a strong im- 
pression of virtue and religion, in opposition to a stronger 
propensity to unwarrantable pleasures ! " His next work was 
a comedy, The Funeral., or Grief a la Mode. This, also, was 
moral in its tone, conveying under the garb of humor a satire 



PROSE WRITERS. 



191 



on the manners of the age. He also wrote other comedies, 
The Tender Husband., and the Conscious Lovers. 

Steele was intensely patriotic, and a Whig under all circum- 
stances. He loved truth and wrote in its behalf, even while 
his life presented such strange inconsistencies. For Addison he 
always maintained a species of reverence. 

Of the two hundred and seventy-one papers of which the Tatler 
consists, Steele wrote more than two hundred, and Addison the 
greater part of the remaining number. In the Spectator^ Addi- 
son's papers are more numerous by far than Steele's. ' The 
Guardian was the last work in which the two friends joined. 

Steele did not originate a periodical review,* but gave dignity 
and popularity to the Essay ^ which, from its regular and ap- 
pointed appearance in the Tatler, Spectator, etc., has been 
styled somewhat awkwardly the Periodical Essay. The essays 
of Bacon a hundred years before were models of condensed 
thought and expression ; the essays of Steele and Addison are 
like the pleasant ripple of conversation. They talked to the 
public in the characters of the fine old country gentleman, 
Sir Roger de Coverly, the retired merchant, Sir Andrew Free- 
port, the courtly beau. Will Honeycomb, and the old soldier, 
Captain Sentry. 

The most independent writer of that time was Daniel De 
Foe (1661-1731). His Bohinson Crusoe antedated Swift's Gulli- 
ver's Travels by seven years. Both were tales of daring and 
singular adventures. His Beview antedated Steele's Tatler by 
five years, and if he is to take a rank among English novelists, 
he anticipated Richardson, the so-called father of the English 
novel, by twenty years. 

De Foe was a bold adherent of the Whigs, caring more for 
their liberal principles than for their party interests. His fear- 
less and ironical writings sometimes gave offence to both Whig 
and Tory parties, and for his satire against the High-Church 
party, entitled. T/ie Shortest Way vnth Dissenters, he was fined, 
pilloried, and imprisoned. Although this satire was mainly 
aimed at the High-Church party, he did not gpa,re the Dissen- 

* De Fok had established The Review, a tri-weekly journal, five years before the 
Tatler, devoting it to politics, literature, and to subjects of daily interest, and like- 
wise to satirizing the follies of the age. 



192 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



ters, to which body he himself belonged. He protested against 
intolerance wherever it existed, and upheld sound policy from 
whatever party it originated. It was during his imprisonment 
at Kewgate that he began his independent critical journal, the 
Bevieic, in which he lashed the abuses of the age. He was 
nearly two years in prison. Released, he was sent to Scotland 
by the cabinet of Queen Anne to arrange measures for the 
union of that country with England. Of this union he after- 
wards wrote a history. His independent speech and disregard 
of public sentiment caused him frequent persecutions, both in 
Anne's reign and the first part of her successor's. In 1715 he 
wrote an Ap^oeal to Honor and Justice, but his health failed 
before its completion, and he retired from the strife of politics, 
and in the seclusion of his family wrote the Life and Adven- 
tures of Bobinson Crusoe. This was published in 1719, and was 
followed in close succession by other stories, all marked by the 
same air of reality that distinguishes that wonderful produc- 
tion. Three of them, The Journal of the Plague Year, The 
Memoirs of a Cavalier, and those of Captain Carleton, have 
been frequently mistaken for authentic narratives."^ 

Other works of De Foe's are The Dumb Philosopher, Captain 
Singleton, Demean Campbell, Moll Flanders, Colonel Jacques, 
Roxana, The Neiv Voyage Round the World, etc. The separate 
publications of this indefatigable writer number two hundred 
and fifty-four works. 

De Foe was of humble parentage, the son of a butcher, James 
Foe, a zealous Dissenter, who gave his son a good education, 
intending him for a minister. The "De" was an addition 
fancied and adopted by the son before he was known in the 
literary world. 

Other prose writers of this time were Arbuthnot, Bolingbroke, 
Shaftesbury, Bentley, Bishop Atterbury, Bishop Berkeley, 
and Lady Mary Wortley Montague. 

John Arbuthnot, M. D. (1675-1735), a member of the Scriblerus 
Club and joint contributor with Pope and Swift to the Miscellanies, is 



* The Earl of Chatham, it is said, used to recommend the Memoirs of a Cavalier as 
the best account of the civil wars, while Dr. Johnson believed in the verity of Captain 
Carleton ! 



I 



PROSE WRITERS. 



193 



known better as the friend of these two wits than for his own writings. 
His principal works are the Memoirs of Martin Scriblerus and the His- 
tory of John Bull. The latter is a satire on the Duke of Marlborough. 

Henry St. John (Viscount Bolingbroke) (1678-1751) likewise 
belonged to the party which opposed the Duke of Marlborough, and 
eventually went over to the cause of the Pretender. Bishop Atterbury 
(1662-1732) was also suspected of an intrigue to secure the Pretender as 
successor to Anne, and in the reign of George I. was banished. 

EicHARD Bentley (1662-1742) was the greatest scholar of the age. 
His fame as a writer rests mainly upon his Dissertation upon the Epistles 
of Phalaris, in which he puts to rout all the host of scholars arrayed 
against him in the great controversy created by Temple's Essay on 
Ancient Learning.* 

George Berkeley (1684-1753), philanthropist and philosopher, 
was a native of Ireland and a friend of Pope, Swift, Addison, Steele, 
Atterbury, and Arbuthnot. Pope ascribes 

"To Berkeley every virtue under heaven," 

and Atterbury said, " So much understanding, so much innocence, and 
such humility I did not think had been the portion of any but angels 
till I saw this gentleman." Berkeley opposed the materialistic tenden- 
cies of the time with his theory that only ideas are real, while matter is 
non-existent. His first philosophical work was the Theory of Vision. 
Among Berkeley's philanthropic but rather visionary schemes was the 
establishment of a university in the Bermudas, " a scheme," as he said, 
" for converting the savage Americans to Christianity, by a college to be 
erected in the Summer Islands, otherwise called the Isles of Bermuda." 
Anticipating this great event he wrote the well-known Verses on the 
Prospect of Planting Arts and Learning in America, the last stanza com- 
mencing, 

"Westward the course of empire takes its way." 

Sir Eobert Walpole failing to advance the money to promote the under- 
taking, the scheme failed. Berkeley spent more than two years in 
America on a farm which he purchased in the interior of Khode Island. 

Lady Mary Wortley Montague (1690-1762) was a friend of 
Pope's until he quarrelled with her. She wrote essays and poems, but 
is better known by her Letters from Constantinople, published after her 
death. 

*See Swift's Battle of the Books, p. 199. 




194 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Illustrations of the Literature of the Augustan 

Age. 

POPE. 

From Essay on Criticism. 

You, then, whose judgment the right course would steer, 
Know well each ancient's proper character : 
His fable, subject, scope in every page ; 
Keligion, country, genius of his age : 
Without all these at once before your eyes, 
Cavil you may, but never criticise. 
Be Homer's works your study and delight, 
Bead them by day and contemplate by night ; 
Thence form your judgment, thence your maxims bring, 
And trace the Muses upward to their spring. 
Still with itself compared his text peruse ; 
And let your comment be the Mantuan Muse. — Zdnc 1^9^ 

A little learning is a dangerous thing I 

Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring : 

There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain. 

And drinking largely sobers us again. 

Fired at first sight with what the Muse imparts, 

In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Arts, 

While, from the bounded level of our mind, 

Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind ; 

But more advanced, behold with strange surprise 

New distant scenes of endless science rise ! 

So pleased at first the towering Alps we try, 

Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky; 

Th' eternal snows appear already past, 

And the first clouds and mountains seem the last: 

But, those attain' d, we tremble to survey 

The growing labors of the lengthen' d way, 

Th' increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes, 

Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise I — Line 232, 

Good nature and good sense must ever join; 
To err is human, to forgive, divine. — Line 525. 



LITERATURE OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 



But you, with pleasure own your errors past, 

And make each day a critic on the last. — Line 371. 

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread. — Line 625. 

From the Eape of the Lock. 

And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed, 
Each silver vase in mystic order laid: 
First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores, 
With head uncovered, the cosmetic powers. 
A heavenly image in the glass appears, 
To that she bends, to that her eye she rears; 
The inferior priestess, at her altar's side. 
Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride. 
Now awful beauty puts on all its arms; 
The fair each moment rises in her charms, 
Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace. 
And calls forth all the wonders of her face ; 
On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, 
Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore. 

From Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. 

Shut, shut the door, good John ! fatigued, I said ; 
Tie up the knocker, say I 'm sick, I 'm dead. 
E'en Sunday shines no sabbath-day for me. 
As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, 
I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. 
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone. 
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne. 
View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes. 
And hate for arts that caused himself to rise ; 
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer. 
And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer. 

From Essay on Man. 

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate. 

Line 

Hope springs eternal in the human breast : 
Man never is, but always to be blest. — Ldne 95. 



196 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Lo the poor Indian! whose untutored mind 

Sees God in clouds, or hears Him in the wind. — Line 100. 

All are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul ; 
That, changed through all, and yet in all the same, 
Great in the earth as in the ethereal frame. 
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; 
Lives through all life, extends through all extent, 
Spreads undivided, operates unspent ; 
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part. 
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; 
As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns 
As the rapt seraph that adores and burns : 
To him no high, no low, no great, no small ; 
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all ! 

Cease then, nor order imperfection name ; 
Our proper bliss depends on what we blame. 
Know thy own point : this kind, this due degree 
Of blindness, weakness, Heaven bestows on thee. 
Submit — in this or any other sphere. 
Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear; 
Safe in the hand of one disposing Power, 
Or in the natal or the mortal hour. 
All nature is but art unknown to thee; 
All chance direction, which thou canst not see ; 
All discord, harmony not understood ; 
All partial evil, universal good : 
And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite. 
One truth is clear, Whatever is is right. — Epistle I., line 29^. 

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan ; 

The proper study of mankind is man. — Epistle II., line 1. 

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien. 
As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face. 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

Epistle IL, line 217. 

Order is Heaven's first law ; and this confessed, 
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest, 



LITERATURE OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 197 



More rich, more wise ; but who infers from hence 

That such are happier, shocks all common sense. 

Heaven to mankind impartial we confess, 

If all are equal in their happiness: 

But mutual wants this happiness increase ; 

All Nature's difference keeps all Nature's peace. 

Condition, circumstance, is not the thing : 

Bliss is the same in subject or in king, 

In who obtain defence, or who defend. 

In him who is, or him who finds a friend ; 

Heaven breathes through every member of the whole 

One common blessing, as one common soul. 

Honor and shame from no condition rise; 
Act well your part, there all the honor lies. ' 

Epistle IV., line 193. 

Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow ; 
The rest is all but leather or prunella. — Line 203. 

"What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards? 

Alas ! not all the blood of all the Howards. — Line 215. 

A wit 's a feather, and a chief a rod ; 

An honest man 's the noblest work of God. — Line 2^7. 

One self-approving hour, whole years outweighs. — Line 255. 

The Dying Christian to his Soul. 

Vital spark of heavenly flame! 
Quit, oh, quit this mortal frame ! 
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying — 
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! 
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife. 
And let me languish into life! 

Hark ! they whisper ; angels say, 
Sister spirit, come away. 
What is this absorbs me quite? 
Steals my senses, shuts my sight ? 
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ? 
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ? 

The world recedes ; it disappears ! 
Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears 

17* 



198 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



With sounds seraphic ring: 
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly 1 
Oh Grave ! where is thy victory ? 

Oh Death ! where is thy sting ? 

GAY. 

The Hare and Many Friends. 

Friendship, like love, is but a name, 
Unless to one you stint the flame. 
The child whom many fathers share 
Hath seldom known a father's care. 
'Tis thus in friendship; who depend 
On many, rarely find a friend. 

A Hare, who in a civil way 
Complied with everything, like Gay, 
Was known by all the bestial train 
Who haunt the wood or graze the plain. 
Her care was never to offend. 
And every creature was her friend. 

As forth she went at early dawn, 
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, 
Behind she hears the hunter's cries. 
And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies; 
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath ; 
She hears the near advance of death ; 
She doubles, to mislead the hound. 
And measures back her mazy round : 
Till, fainting in the public way. 
Half dead with fear she gasping lay : 
What transport in her bosom grew 
When first the Horse appeared in view I 
Let me, says she, your back ascend, 
And owe my safety to a friend. 
You know my feet betray my flight, 
To friendship every burden 's light. 
The Horse replied, Poor honest Puss, 
It grieves my heart to see you thus : 
Be cornforted, relief is near, 
For all your friends are in the rear. 

She next the stately Bull implored, 
And thus replied the miglity lord : 



LITERATURE OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 199 



Since every beast alive can tell 

That I sincerely wish you well, 

I may, without offence, pretend 

To take the freedom of a friend. 

To leave you thus might seem unkind ; 

But see, the Goat is just behind. 

The Goat remarked her pulse was high, 

Her languid head, her heavy eye ; 

My back, says he, may do you harm. 

The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm. 

The Sheep was feeble, and complained 

His sides a load of wool sustained : 

Said he was slow, confessed his fears. 

For hounds eat sheep as well as hares. 

She now the trotting Calf addressed, 

To save from death a friend distressed. 

Shall I, says he, of tender age. 

In this important care engage? 

Older and abler passed you by; 

How strong are those, how weak am I ! 

Should I presume to bear you hence. 

Those friends of mine may take offence. 

Excuse me, then. You know my heart ; 

But dearest friends, alas ! must part. 

How shall we all lament I Adieu ! 

For, see, the hounds are just in view ! 

SWIFT. 

From The Battle of the Books. 

The quarrel first began (as I have heard it affirmed by an old dweller 
in the neighborhood) about a small plot of ground, lying and being 
upon one of the two tops of the hill Parnassus ; the highest and largest 
of which had, it seems, been, time out of mind, in quiet possession of 
certain tenants called the Ancients ; and the other was held by the 
Moderns. But these, disliking their present station, sent certain am- 
bassadors to the Ancients complaining of a great nuisance — how the 
height of that Parnassus quite spoiled the prospect of theirs, especially 
towards the east ; and therefore, to avoid a war, offered them the choice 
of this alternative, either that the Ancients would please to remove 
themselves and their effects down to the lower summit, which the 
Moderns would graciously surrender to them, and advance in their 



200 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



place ; or else tliat the Ancients would give leave to the Modems to 
come with shovels and mattocks and level the said hill as low as they 
shall think it convenient. To which the Ancients made answer that 
they would advise the Moderns rather to raise their own side of the 
hill than dream of pulling down that of the Ancients. . . . And so 
this difference broke out into a long and obstinate war. ... In this 
quarrel whole rivulets of ink have been exhausted. . . . Now it must 
be understood that ink is the great missile weapon in all battles of the 
learned, which, conveyed through a sort of engine called a quill, infinite 
numbers of these are darted at the enemy by the valiant on either side. 
This malignant liquor was compounded by the engineer, who invented 
it, of two ingredients, gall and copperas, by its bitterness and venom to 
suit in some degree, as well as to foment, the genius of the combatants. 
. . . The terrible fight took place on Friday last, between the Ancient 
and Modern books in the King's library. 

Now the Moderns had not proceeded with secrecy enough to escape 
the notice of the enemy. For those advocates who had begun the 
quarrel, by setting first on foot the dispute of precedency, talked so loud 
of coming to a battle that Temple happened to overhear them, and gave 
immediate intelligence to the Ancients, who thereupon drew up their 
scattered troops, determined to act upon the defensive. Upon which 
several of the Moderns fled over to their party, and among them Temple 
himself. This Temple, having been educated and long conversed among 
the Ancients, was, of all the Moderns, their greatest favorite and became 
their greatest champion. 

It is wonderful to conceive the tumult arisen among the books, upon 
the close of this long descant of ^sop ; both parties took the hint and 
resolved it should come to a battle. The Moderns were in warm debate 
upon the choice of their leaders. The difference was greatest among 
the horse, where every private trooper pretended to the chief command, 
from Tasso and Milton to Dryden and Withers. The light-horse were 
commanded by Cowley and Despreaux (Boileau). 

The army of the Ancients were much fewer in number. Homer led 
the horse and Pindar the light-horse ; Euclid was chief engineer ; Plato 
and Aristotle commanded the bowmen ; Herodotus and Livy the foot ; 
Hippocrates the dragoons ; the allies, led by Vossius and Temple, brought 
up the rear. 

Day being far spent, and the numerous forces of the Moderns half 



LITERATURE OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 



201 



inclining to a retreat, there issued forth from a squadron of their heavy- 
armed foot a captain, whose name was B-ntl-y ; in person the most 
deformed of all the Moderns. The generals made use of him for his 
talent of railing. ... As he came near, behold two heroes of the An- 
cients' army, Phalaris and JEsop, lay fast asleep. B-ntl-y would fain 
have dispatched them both, and stealing close aimed his flail at Pha- 
laris's heart. . . . Boyle observed him well, and soon discovering the 
helmet and shield of Phalaris, his friend, both which he had lately 
with his own hands new polished and gilded, he furiously rushed on 
against this new approacher. 

From Verses on His Own Death. 

Behold the fatal day arrive! 

How is the Dean ? He 's just alive. 

Now the departing prayer is read; 

He hardly breathes. The Dean is dead. 

* * * -Sf ■}?■ 

Oh may we all for death prepare ! 
What has he left? and who's his heir? 
I know no more than what the news is — 
'Tis all bequeathed to public uses. 

* -H- * * 

Here shift the scene, to represent 
How those I love my death lament. 
Poor Pope will grieve a month, and Gay 
A week, and Arbuthnot a day. 
St. John himself will scarce forbear 
To bite his pen and drop a tear. 
The rest will give a shrug and cry, 
" I 'm sorry — but we all must die ! " 

* * * , -H- ^ 

'T was he that writ the " Drapier letters ! " 
He should have left them to his betters. 
We had a hundred abler men, 
Nor need depend upon his pen. 
Say what you will about his reading, 
You never can defend his breeding. 

* * * * * 

Perhaps, I may allow, the Dean 
Had too much satire in his vein, 



202 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



And seemed determined not to starve it, 
Because no age could more deserve it. 

-x- -x- •}«■ * 

He gave the little wealth he had 
To build a house for fools and mad. 

ADDISON. 

From The Spectator, No. 112. 

SlE, EOGER DE COVEELY"^ AT ChURCH. 

I am always very well pleased with a country Sunday, and think, if 
keeping holy the seventh day were only a human institution, it would 
be the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing 
and civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon 
degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, "were there not such 
frequent returns of a stated time in which the whole village meet to- 
getlier with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to converse 
with one another upon different subjects, hear their duties explained to 
them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday 
clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their 
minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appear- 
ing in their most agreeable forms, and exerting all such qualities as are 
apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. A country fellow 
distinguishes himself as much in the churchyard as a citizen does upon 
the 'Change, the whole parish politics being generally discussed in that 
place either after sermon or before the bell rings. 

My friend Sir Koger, being a good churchman, has beautified the 
inside of his church with several texts of his own choosing. He has 
likewise given a handsome pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communion- 
table at his own expense. He has often told me, that at his coming to 
his estate he found liis parishioners very irregular, and that, in order to 
make them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of them 
a hassock and a common-prayer book, and, at the same time, employed 
an itinerant singing-master, who goes about the country for that pur- 



*The papers relating to Sir Roger de Coverly are— No. 2 is his Character, by Steele 
— No. 106, Visit to his Country Seat, by Addison— No. 107, his Conduct to his Ser- 
vants, by Steele— No. 109, his Ancestors, by Steele— No. 112, his Behavior at Church, 
by Addison— No. 113, his Disappointment in Love, by Steele— No. 116, A Hunting 
Scene with Sir Roger, by Budgell— No 118, Sir Roger's Reflections on the Widow, 
by Steele— and Nos. 122, 130, 269, 271, 329, 335, 383, and 517 containing an account of 
his death, all by Addison. 



LITERATURE OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 203 



pose, to instruct them rightly in the tunes of the Psalms ; upon which 
they now very much value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the 
country churches that I have ever heard. 

As Sir Koger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in 
very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself ; 
for if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon 
recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees 
anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself or sends his servants 
to them. Several other of the old knight's particularities break out 
upon these occasions. Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse 
in the singing Psalms, half a minute after the rest of the congregation 
have done with it ; sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his 
devotion, he pronounces amen three or four times to the same prayer ; 
and sometimes stands up, when everybody else is upon their knees, to 
count the congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing. 

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the 
midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what 
he was about, and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews, 
it seems, is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was 
kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the knight, though 
exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all the circum- 
stances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite 
enough to see anything ridiculous in his behavior; besides that, the 
general good sense and worthiness of his character make his friends 
observe these little singularities as foils that rather set off than blemish 
his good qualities. 

As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes to stir till Sir 
Roger is gone out of the church. The knight walks down from his seat 
in the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing 
to him on each side ; and every now and then inquires how such a one's 
wife, or mother, or son, or father does, whom he does not see at church, 
which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent. 

The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising day, when 
Sir Eoger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered 
a Bible to be given him next day for his encouragement, and sometimes 
accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has like- 
wise added five pounds a year to the clerk's place ; and, that he may 
encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the church 
service, has promised, upon the death of the present incumbent, who is 
very old, to bestow it according to merit. 



204 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Ode. 

The spacious firmament on high, 

With all the blue ethereal sky, 

And spangled heavens, a shining frame, 

Their great original proclaim : 

The unwearied sun, from day to day, 

Does his Creator's power display. 

And publishes to every land 

The work of an Almighty hand. 

Soon as the evening shades prevail. 
The moon takes up the wondrous tale, 
And nightly to the listening earth 
Eepeats the story of her birth : 
Whilst all the stars that round her burn, 
And all the planets in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings as they roll. 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What, though in solemn silence, all 
Move round the dark terrestrial ball? 
What though nor real voice nor sound 
Amid their radiant orbs be found? 
In reason's ear they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice. 
Forever singing as they shine. 
The hand that made us is divine. 

STEELE. 
From The Tatler, No. 117. 
The Dream. 

1 was once myself in agonies of grief that are unutterable, and in 
so great a distraction of mind, that I thought myself even out of the 
possibility of receiving comfort. The occasion was as follows : When I 
was a youth, in a part of the army which was then quartered at Dover, 
I fell in love with an agreeable young woman of a good family in those 
parts, and had the satisfaction of seeing my addresses kindly received, 
which occasioned the perplexity I am going to relate. 

We were in a calm evening diverting ourselves upon the top of a 
cY\S with the prospect of the sea, and trifling away the time in such 



LITERATURE OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 205 



little fondnesses as are most ridiculous to people in business and most 
agreeable to those in love. 

In the midst of these our innocent endearments, she snatched a paper 
of verses out of my hand and ran away with them. I was following 
her when, on a sudden, the ground, though at a considerable distance 
from the verge of the precipice, sunk under her, and threw her down 
from so prodigious a height upon such a range of rocks, as would have 
dashed her into ten thousand pieces had her body been made of adamant. 
It is much easier for my reader to imagine my state of mind upon such 
an occasion than for me to express it. I said to myself. It is not in the 
power of heaven to relieve me ! when I awaked, equally transported 
and astonished, to see myself drawn out of an affliction which, the very 
moment before, appeared to me altogether inextricable. 

The impressions of grief and horror were so lively on this occasion, 
that while they lasted they made me more miserable than I was at the 
real death of this beloved person, which happened a few months after, 
at a time when the match between us was concluded ; inasmuch as the 
imaginary death was untimely, and I myself in a sort an accessory > 
whereas her real decease had at least these alleviations, of being nat- 
ural and inevitable. 

The memory of the dream I have related still dwells so strongly upon 
me, that I can never read the description of Dover-clifF in Shakespeare's 
tragedy of King Lear without a fresh sense of my escape. The pros- 
pect from that place is drawn with such proper incidents, that whoever 
can read it without growing giddy must have a good head, or a very 
bad one. 

Syllabus. 

The Augustan age of literature extends from 1700-1727. It includes 
the reigns of Anne and of George I. 
Pope, Addison, Steele, and Swift were the principal writers. 
Pope implicitly followed Dryden. 
Pope aimed at accuracy, not originality. 

He perfected the classical or artificial school which Dryden began. 

Pope's principal works are Pastorals, The Messiah, Ode on St. Cecilia^s 
Day, Essay on Criticism, Rape of the Lock, The Temple of Fame, Elegy 
on an Unfortunate Lady, Windsor Forest, Translation of the Iliad, Epistle 
from Eloise to Ahelard, Essay on Man, Miscellanies, Dunciad, Epistles, 
Satires, Moral Essays, The Universal Prayer, The Dying Christian to His 
Soul, etc. 
18 



206 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Pope's mission was to teach correctness of style. 

Pope was a Catholic in the best sense of the word. 

He was intimate with the best minds of the age. 

His residence was at Twickenham. 

This age was too keen and critical for poetry to thrive. 

Allan Eamsay, a Scotch poet, was the most natural of the poets. 

Ramsay wrote The Gentle Shepherd, a pastoral drama, and Songs. 

John Gay's chief work is The Beggars' Opera. 

Matthew Prior, associated with Charles Montague, wrote The Country 
House and the City House. 

Other poets of the time were Thomas Parnell, Dr. Watts, Blackmore, 
and Robert Blair. 

This age, with the preceding and following, constitute the artificial age 
of poetry. 

No sonnets were written during this time. It was an age of satire. 
The character of the drama was a continuation of that of the previous 
period. 

The critical age was unfavorable for poetry, but excellent for prose. 
Swift was one of the most vigorous prose writers. Satire was his forte. 
Swift became Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin. 

His principal works are The Battle of the Books, Tale of a Tub, Gulli- 
ver's Travels, Drapier's Letters, Verses on his Own Deathy contributions to 
the Scriblerus Club, etc. 

Swift lived an unhappy life, and made a sorrowful end, 

Addison was a genial writer. 

In conjunction with Steele, he began The Spectator. 

The influence of The Spectator was great. It ended in 1712. 

Addison's first literary attempts were in poetry. 

The Campaign was a poem in honor of Marlborough's victory at Blen- 
heim. 

Addison was patronized by Whigs. 

The tragedy of Cato was written in the latter part of Anne's reign. 
Steele was more volatile than Addison. 

He wrote The Christian Hero during the wildest period of his life. 
Steele began The Tatler in 1709. The Spectator followed, 1711. 
The Guardian was the last journal in which Steele and Addison joined. 
Daniel De Foe published a Revieiv five years before Steele's Tatler. 
The fictitious adventures of Robinson Crusoe were written by De Foe 
twenty years before Richardson published his first novel. 
De Foe was persecuted for his liberal sentiments. 

De Foe wrote over two hundred and fifty works, many of them fictions. 
Other prose writers were Arbuthnot, Bolingbroke, Shaftesbury, Bentley, 
Bishop Atterbury, Bishop Berkeley, and Lady Mary Wortley Montague. 



DR. JOHNSON, 



CHAPTER IX. 
The Age of Dr. Johnson. 

1727—1784. 

O period is more interesting in its literary or political his- 
tory than that upon which we are now entering, — Dr. 
Johnson the central figure in the one and the "Great Com- 
moner," William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, in the 
other. It is a period fraught with events which shaped the 
destinies of nations. 

In 1727 George II. succeeded his father to the throne, and 
engaged in a war in which nearly all Europe took part — the 
war of the Austrian succession."^ During the King's absence 
on the continent, Charles Edward, the young Pretender, landed 
in Scotland to make one more effort to secure the throne of his 
ancestors, but was defeated in the battle of Culloden, 1745. 
This was the last attempt of the Stuarts to regain the throne 
of England. 

In 1760 George III., grandson of George II., ascended the 
throne, and Bute was created prime minister, but, becoming 
unpopular, he soon resigned, and the ministry fell upon Gren- 
ville. It was during this ministry that the American colonies 
offered resistance to the unjust taxation imposed upon them. 
In AVilliam Pitt they had a strong friend. Through his exer- 
tions the Stamp Act was repealed. His acceptance of the 




* George espoused the cause of Maria Theresa, the heir to the throne of Austria, 
and in person defeated the French at the battle of Dettiugen. 

207 



208 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, 



Earldom of Chatham somewhat affected his popularity, for the 
people loved to think of him as the " Great Commoner." 

The House of Commons had ceased to represent the people. 
It had become as arrogant as royalty itself ; but when, in 1771, 
it issued a proclamation forbidding the publication of its de- 
bates, the indignation of the people arose. Meetings were 
held, the politics of the nation discussed in towns and boroughs, 
and a public sentiment created which the press reechoed, until 
the House of Commons was made to feel that there was a 
power in the will of the people which they were bound to re- 
spect. 

The right of the press to discuss public affairs was estab- 
lished when, in Grenville's ministry, the North Briton, a jour- 
nal published by John Wilkes, was prosecuted for a free dis- 
cussion of the affairs of government, and when the "Letters 
OF Junius " appeared in the Public Advertiser, in which not 
only the ministry but the King himself was attacked. 

Not least among the prominent events of this period was the 
establishment of the British empire in India, with which the 
names of Clive and Warren Hastings are connected. Aside 
from the selfish aggrandizement of the scheme, the intercourse 
which it opened up with the East awakened an interest in 
oriental studies and researches. 

It was an era of beginnings. Kew fields were opening in 
literature, science, and politics. 

The history of the literature of this time until the accession 
of George III. in 1760 presents a striking contrast to the pre- 
ceding age of Pope — the age of patronage, when successful 
writers were rewarded by substantial gifts of office.* In John- 
son's time " the harvest was over and famine began. All that 
was squalid and miserable might be summed up in the word 
poet. " It was an age which separated two great epochs in liter- 
ary history — a pause when patronage had ceased and the pub- 
lic taste had not begun to demand the productions of literary 



* Addison was Secretary of State; Steele was a member of Parliament and Com- 
missioner of Stamps ; Sir Isaac Newton was Master of the Mint ; Locke was Com- 
missioner of Appeals and of the Board of Trade ; Gay, at twenty-five, was Secretary 
of Legation ; Congreve, Rowe, Prior and Montague, Tickell and Ambrose Philips, 
were all employed in offices of state. 



.POETRY. 



209 



genius. Patronage only had ceased ; genius was stirring^ and 
starving and penniless, as were the " literary hacks of Grub 
street," they were creating a literature more permanent and 
brilliant than that of the Augustan age. Johnson and his cen- 
tury established Enghsh prose. 

Poetry. 

In taking a retrospective glance at the history of poetry from 
the time of Dryden to that of Johnson, we shall find that most 
of the productions aim at a style based upon the classical wri- 
ters of antiquity ; that the style which commenced with Waller 
and Dryden culminated in Pope, and entailed its influence upon 
the succeeding age of Johnson. In Gray, Collins, Thomson, 
Goldsmith, and Young the spirit of poetry seemed to revive. 
The restraint of the preceding age in a degree removed, health- 
ful imagination began to resume her sway. Excellence charac- 
terized the poetry of the time. The influence of Pope's careful 
labor was felt. Gray never printed a line that could be im- 
proved. Collins so exquisitely modulated his verse that the 
rhyme is not even missed. Thomson, who three times cor- 
rected and rewrote his Seasons; Goldsmith, whose every line 
is a picture ; and Young, whose Niglit Thoughts, in many in- 
stances, reecho the Essay on Man, all show the influence of 
Pope's teaching. 

Thomas Gray (1716-1771) was born in London. To his 
mother's sacrifice and care he owed his education. At Eton 
he prepared for Cambridge. Here he made the acquaintance 
of Horace Walpole, son of the great Whig minister. The two 
friends set out together for a tour on the continent, but owing 
to some misunderstanding separated in Italy. Keturning, Gray 
estabhshed himself in chambers at Cambridge and devoted his 
life to literature, varying it with occasional visits to his mother 
and aunt at Stoke Pogis. It was in the churchyard at this place 
that he wrote his Elegy; and from the end of the garden walk 
leading from the West End, as the old-fashioned house was 
called, he had a distant view of Eton college, and here, no 
doubt, he wrote his famous Ode to that nurse of his early 
muse.* 



* He travelled, in Scotland, and became familiar with the Celtic traditions. H-e 
18* O 



210 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



His Elegy in a Country Churchyard^ begun in 1742, was fin- 
ished in 1750. It is curious and interesting to watch the prog- 
ress of this famous poem as it grew under tlie autlior's own 
hands — to notice the various shades of tliought produced by 
the substitution of words, and the ever vigilant care exercised 
over every line. The fifteenth stanza originally read : 

" Some village Cato, who, with dauntless breast, 
The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; 
Some mute, inglorious TuUy here may rest, 
Some Caesar, guiltless of his country's blood." 

The final substitution of the great names of the English 
commonwealth for those of the Roman republic made the 
poem less classical, but more consistent, and brought it wholly 
to the hearts and homes of England. 

The first line of the 27th stanza originally read ; 

With gesture quaint, now smiling as in scorn," 

and the following exquisite stanza is supposed to have origi- 
nally followed the 29th stanza, immediately preceding the 
epitaph ; but, exquisite as it is, surpassing many of the stanzas, 
it interrupts the progress of the poem, and therefore was 
omitted : 

" There scattered oft, the earliest of the year. 

By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; 
The red-breast loves to build and warble there. 
And little footsteps lightly print the ground." 

Gray's two great odes, The Progress of Poesy and The Bard^ 
were received with less favor than the Elegy. They are grand 
and sonorous, replete with classical and learned allusions, which 
will repay the student for hours of patient study. Gray's other 
poems are, an Ode to Spring, Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton 
College, Ode to Adversity, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, 
The Progress of Poesy, and The Bard. 

William Collins (1720-1756) was a poet endowed with 



had studied also the poetry of Scandinavia, subjects which hitherto had attracted 
but little attention. The office of poet-laureate becoming vacant by the death of 
CoUey Gibber, it was offered to Gray, who refused it, accepting instead the professor- 
ship of modern history in Cambridge. 



POETRY. 



211 



rare genius. Like Gray, he was a purely lyrical poet. The 
best known of his poems is his Ode to the Passions^ in which the 
personification of fear, anger, despair, pity, etc., shows the live- 
liest fancy. Hope and cheerfulness, sentiments to which this 
poet was perhaps the greatest stranger, are the best portrayed 
of all : 

" But thou, O Hope ! with eyes so fair, 
What was thy delighted measure ? 
Still it whispered promised pleasure, 
And bade the lovely scenes, at distance, hail ! 

Still would her touch the strain prolong ; 
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale 

She called on Echo still, through all the song ; 
And where her sweetest themes she chose, 
A soft, responsive voice was heard at every close ; 
And Hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden hair." 

The bright and gloomy pictures, the "sprightlier tones" and 
woful measures," are most skilfully intermingled : 

" Hope longer would have sung, but with a frown 
Kevenge impatient rose ; 
He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, 
And, with a withering look, 
The war-denouncing trumpet took, 
And blew a blast so loud and dread, 

Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woes; 
And ever and anon, he beat 
The doubling drum with furious heat; 
And though, sometimes, each dreary pause between, 
Dejected Pity, at his side, 
Her soul-subduing voice applied, 
Yet still he kept his wild unaltered mien ; 
While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head. 

" Thy numbers, Jealousy, to naught were fixed — 
Sad proof of thy distressful state ! 
Of differing themes the veering song was mixed ; 

And now it courted Love — now, raving, called on Hate. 

With eyes upraised, as one inspired, 
Pale Melancholy sat retired ; 
And, from her wild sequestered seat, 
In notes, by distance made more sweet, 



212 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul ; 
And, dashing soft from rocks around, ■ ; ■ 

Bubbling runnels joined the sound ; 
Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole; 
Or, o'er some haunted streams, with fond delay, — 
Round a holy calm diffusing, 
Love of peace, and lonely musing, — 
In hollow murmurs died away. 

" But, oh ! how altered was its spriglitlier tone, 
When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue. 

Her bow across her shoulder flung, 
Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, 

Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, — 
The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known ! 

The oak-crowned sisters, and their chaste-eyed queen. 

Satyrs, and sylvan boys, were seen, 

Peeping from forth their alleys green : 
Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear; 
And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear " 

i'J'othing could be more melodious than the soft and "mingled 
measures " descriptive of melancholy, the passion to w^hich the 
poet was himself a prey. His short life of thirty-eight years 
terminated in insanity. CoUins's first publications were pas- 
torals, in which oriental personages and incidents replaced the 
customary and traditional pastoral type of the ancient Greek 
and Roman. The age did not perceive the genius which in- 
spired these Persian Eclogues^ and they were but little noticed. 
Among the minor lyrics of Collins, his elegy on the Death of 
Thomson^ The Dirge in Cymheline^ How Sleep the Brave, and 
The Ode to Evening are best known. There are marked resem- 
blances in the poetry of Collins and Gray. 

The story of the life of Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774) is 
known almost as well as his Vicar of Wal^efdcl or Deserted Vil- 
lage. His youthful genius, his humor, his vagrancies, and 
unwarrantable acts of charity have attracted the pens of nu- 
merous biographers, while, perhaps, his own delineations of 
character frequently portray himself more truly. 

Born in Ireland, but not of Irish descent, his early childhood 
was spent in and about the village of Pallas, in the county of 



POETRY. 



213 



Longford. He was the second son of Charles Goldsmith, a 
clergyman in straightened circumstances, who, in bestowing a 
liberal education upon his eldest son, had not the means left to 
educate the little Ohver, so it was decided that he should be 
brought up to some mercantile pursuit. He was sent to various 
school-masters, the first of whom entertained his little pupil 
with stories of strange adventures, which, perhaps, gave Oliver 
his first desire for wandering. His rhymes, at the age of seven 
and eight years, when he could scarcely write legibly, attracted 
th6 notice of his famil}^* 

At the age of sixteen he entered Dublin College as a sizer or 
charity student. f He was next sent to London to study law, 
but stopping in Dublin on his way, he squandered the sum pro- 
vided for his journey. Still, not di»couraged, the good uncle 
next sent him to Edinburgh, to study medicine. Here he re- 
mained about eighteen months, when he was obliged to leave 
on account of having gone security for a considerable sum for 
a classmate. From Edinburgh he took passage for Leyden, 
where he studied for about a year, and then set out to make 
the tour of Europe on foot, without money, and unincumbered 
with baggage, carrying with him but one clean shirt and his 
flute. 

In the character of "George Primrose," in the Vicar of 
Wakefield, he tells his own career through this memorable 
journey : 



*0n one occasion, his sister tells us, being but recently recovered from the small- 
pox, by which he was much disfigured, he was dancing a hornpipe to the music of a 
fiddle. The player, observing the short, thick, little figure, compared him to iEsop 
dancing, upon which Oliver stopped short in the dance, with the retort : 

" Our herald hath proclaimed this saying — 
See ^sop dancing, and his monkey playing." 

"His ready reply concerning ^sop," says his sister "decided his future, for 
from that time it was determined to send him to the University." Several relatives, 
who had more means than the father, offered their assistance, particularly an uncle, 
the Rev. Thomas Contarine. 

t His tutor here was a man of unusual severity, who could not tolerate Goldsmith's 
wild, extravagant habits, and who, through his harsh and brutal treatment, impelled 
the youth to leave college. Selling his books and clothing, Goldsmith wandered 
about the streets of Dublin until he was reduced to the point of starving. Filled 
with remorse for his follies, he sent word to his brother, who hastened to his relief 
and reinstated him in college. 



214 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



had some knowledge of music, with a tolerable voice, and now 
turned what was my amusement into a present means of subsistence. I 
passed among the harmless peasants of Flanders, and among such of the 
French as were poor enough to be very meriy, for I ever found them 
sprightly in proportion to their wants. Whenever I approached a 
peasant's house towards nightfall, I played one of my most merry tunes, 
and that procured me not only a lodging, but subsistence for the next 
day." 

Thus through Flanders and portions of France, Germany, 
and Switzerland he travelled, and reached home within a year 
from the time he set out, penniless, as a matter of course, but 
prepared to enrich the world of literature by his contribution 
of the Traveller., or a Prospect of Society. Settling in London, 
he engaged in whatever offered a means of support, however 
meagre— at one time acting as a chemist's clerk, at another 
as usher in a boarding-school, and often as physician among 
the very poor. After numerous discouraging attempts at self- 
support, he began his literary career — the only career for which 
nature had endowed him— at first hiring his time to booksellers 
as the merest drudge, then writing articles for Reviews, and 
publishing anonymously his Inquiry into the Present State of 
Polite Learyiing in Europe. 

The Bee was a series of essays, on different subjects, which 
he published weekly. Their sprightly tone and genial humor 
should have won the patronage which the Spectator of the 
previous age received, but the author was unknown, and liter- 
ature was not yet loved for itself. Next appeared Letters from 
a Citizen of the World, purporting to have been written by a 
Chinaman residing for a short time in England, and observing 
the manners of the people. The Traveller was not published 
until 1764, and was the first of his writings to which he affixed 
his name. It instantly became popular, and when the previous 
articles which he had written were known to be from the pen 
of the author of the Traveller., they received the notice which 
they had always deserved. Goldsmith was now becoming- 
popular. His genius had won the warm friendship of Dr. 
Johnson, and he w^as made one of the first members of that 
famous Literary Club of which Johnson was the brilliant 
centre. From that excellent friend and critic we have the 



POETRY. 



215 



following account of the publishing of the Vicar of Wakefield., 
two years after the appearance of the Traveller : 

" I received, one morning," says Johnson, " a message from poor 
Goldsmith that he was in great distress, and, as it was not in his power 
to come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as possible. 
1 sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. I accord- 
ingly went as soon as I was dressed, and found that his landlady had 
arrested him for his rent, at which he was in a violent passion. I 
perceived that he had already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle 
of Madeira and a glass before him. I put the cork into the bottle, de- 
sired he Avould be calm, and began to talk to him of the means by which 
he might be extricated. He then told me that he had a novel ready 
for the press, which he produced to me. I looked into it, and saw its 
merit, told the landlady I should soon return, and, having gone to a 
bookseller, sold it for sixty pounds, I brought Goldsmith the money, 
and he discharged his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high 
tone for having used him so ill." 

In 1768 appeared his drama of the Good-Natured Man, one 
of the most genial comedies in the language. The next year 
The Deserted Village was published, which became immediately 
popular. The same year found him industriously engaged in 
compiling his Histories of England, Greece, and Borne. These 
were, for the most part, adaptations of other works, with still 
enough of Goldsmith in the welding together to give the charm 
of his style. In 1771, he produced his second comedy — She 
Stoops to Conquer.* This was received with much more favor 
than the first, the humor being broader, and more suited to 
the taste of indiscriminate playgoers, than the delicate, genial 
humor of the Good-Natured Man. Among Goldsmith's last 
works was a History of the Earth and Ayiimated Nature. In this 
he made no pretensions to originality, the work being a con- 
densed translation of Buffon, a French naturalist, contempo- 
rary with Goldsmith. For this work, as for many others, Gold- 
smith received large profits, but so great was his improvidence 

*The plot of this inimitable comedy is founded on a blunder which Goldsmith 
himself made when a very young man, in mistaking the house of a gentleman — an 
early friend of his father's— for an inn ; calling for his supper, ordering hot cake for 
breakfast, and not discovering his blunder until he asked for bis bill. The host, 
being a man of humor, on seeing the youth's mistake, encouraged all the household 
to keep up the deception. Other incidents were woven into the drama, giving it the 
title of She Sloops to Conquer, but it was originally called The Mistakes of a Night. 



216 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



and so boundless his charity, that no sum, however great, was 
sufficient to satisfy his propensity to give."^ In his Citizen of 
the World., the Man of Black, who sometimes resembles Gold- 
smith himself, says, speaking of his father, and his instruction 
to his children ; 

" We were told that universal benevolence was what first cemented 
society. We were taught to consider all the wants of mankind as our 
own — to regard the human face divine with affection and esteem. Pie 
wound us up to be mere machines of pity, and rendered us incapable 
of withstanding the slightest impulse made either by real or fictitious 
distress. In a Avord, we were perfectly instructed in the art of giving 
away thousands before we were taught the necessary qualifications of 
getting a farthing." 

In Dr. Primrose, in the Vicar of Wakefield, the family again 
recognized the father ; likewise in the Preacher, in the De- 
serted Village: 

"A man he Avas to all the country dear, 
And passing rich, with forty pounds a year. 
His house was known to all the vagrant train : 
He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain ; 
The long-remembered beggar was his guest. 
Whose beard, descending, swept his aged breast : 
The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, 
Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed. 
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, 
Sat by his fire, and talked the night away, 
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, 
Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields Avere won. 
Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, 
And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; 
Careless their merits or their faults to scan, 
His pity gave ere charity began. 
Thus, to relieve the wretched was his pride. 
And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side." 

Of the writings f of Oliver Goldsmith there can be but one 

*In the genial words of Thackeray, "The poor fellow was never so friendless but 
he could befriend some one; never so pinched and wretched but he could give of his 
crust and speak his word of compassion." 

t Of the life and character of Goldsmith there have been various estimates. Ma- 
caulay says of him : " There was in his character much to love, but little to respect. 



POETRY. 



- 217 



opinion, that they are among the most elegant and delightful 
compositions in the language. Every line breathes his spirit 
of gentleness and humanity. His prose is as charming as his 
poetry ; and so versatile was his genius, that he might he 
classed among poets, dramatists, novelists, or essayists. 

JAIMES Thomson (1700-1748) holds the same rank among the 
poets of England that Bryant holds among American poets — 
both preeminently the poets of nature. Thomson's love of 
nature was a passion sincere and devotional. His imagination 
was pure and unfettered, and while he seldom or never startles 
the reader with bold or daring flights, he is always pleasing, 
always true and simple, and sometimes grand. 

His first poem was Winter., written without any thought of 
connecting it with a series. Finding this poem popular, he 
next wrote Summon and finally added the other two, publish- 
ing them all under the title of The Seasons. Pope was still 
living when Thomson published these poems, and, it is said, 
made many suggestions which the poet always heeded. And 
yet there is none of Pope's stiffness in the Seasons. In the 
description of a summer morning, with "-the dripping rock," 
"the mountain's misty top," there is a perfect picture of 
awakening dawn : 

"With quickened step 
Brown night retires ; young day pours in apace, 
And opens all the lawny prospect wide. 
The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top 
Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn. 
Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine, 
And from the bladed field the fearful hare 
Limps awkward ; while along the forest glade 



His heart was soft even to weakness ; he was so generous, that he quite forgot to be 
just ; he forgave injuries so readily that he might be said to invite them, and was so 
liberal to beggars that he had nothing left for his tailor and butcher." 

We cannot but feel the justice of these strictures of Macaulay, though it may be 
he was so just that he forgot to be generous ! 

Thackeray, if less discriminating, is more charitable. He says: "Think of him 
reckless, thoughtless, vain, if you like, but merciful, gentle, generous, full of love 
and pity. His humor delighting us still ; his song fresh and beautiful as when first 
he charmed with it; his words in all our mouths; his benevolent spirit still seems 
to smile on us; to do gentle kindnesses; to succor with sweet charity; to soothe, 
caress, aTid forgive ; to plead with the fortunate for the unhappy and poor." 
19 



218 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The wild deer trip, and often turning, gaze 
At early passenger. Music awakes 
The native voice of undissembled joy ; 
And thick around the woodland hvmns arise. 
Housed by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves 
His mossy cottage, where with peace he dwells; 
And from the crowded fold, in order, drives 
His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn." 

The coloring is gray, as Thomson's pictures usually are, but 
there is not a word amiss in this description of early dawn. 

Edward Young (1681-1765), known mainly as the author 
of the Night Thoughts^ was contemporary with Pope and the 
writers of that age, but was more prominent in the succeeding 
period of literature. His JSFight Thoughts were written, at the 
age of sixty, apparently under the pressure of great sorrow, 
and represent the meditations of nine nights.* They consist 
mainly of serious reflections on Life and Death and Immortal- 
ity. The style of the Night Thoughts is labored, and, like 
Pope's Essay on Man, is more enjoyable read in fragments. 
There is more play of imagination than in Pope, and the whole 
poem, as contrasted with the Essay on Man, shows "more 
matter with less art." Young's epigrammatic sentences, like 
those of Pope's, fix themselves in the memory, and become 
familiar phrases in ordinary conversation. Young wrote other 
works, but none became as popular as Night Thoughts. Among 
them are a satire on the Love of Fame., and a tragedy entitled 
Eevenge. 

There were, during this period, two poets of singular fame, 
James Macphersox and Thomas Ciiattertox, both perpe- 
trators of literary forgeries, claiming to have discovered valu- 
able relics of literature, the products of remote ages. The new 
interest awakening in the study of the national ancient litera- 
-ture was favorable to the reception of these forgeries, but that 
the nation and the reading world should accept them as genu- 

* Young had entered the church soon after the accession of George II., and was 
appointed the king's chaplain. Like Dryden and Addison, he married a titled lady, 
the daughter of the Earl of Litchfield; but unlike his two predecessors, he lived 
most happily with his wife. It was on occasion of her death, and that of her two 
children, that the Nighl Thoughts were written. The Lorenzo is a purely imagina- 
tive character, representing the man of the world, and an atheist. 



POETRY. 



219 



ine, must be attributed to the general lack of critical knowl- 
edge on these subjects. 

James Macphersox (1738-1796), a Scotchman, represented 
that in his travels through the Highlands he had discovered the 
veritable works of the ancient Celtic poet Ossian; but as no 
other traces of these poems could be found to exist, they were 
fmally believed to have been Macpherson's own productions. 
There is a misty grandeur in the half-revealed scenes, and a 
roll of melancholy music in the words. Thus Colma says : 

" I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind is heard on 
the mountain, the torrent pours down the rock. 

" Such were the words of the bards in the days of song, when the 
king heard the music of harps, the tales of other times ! The chiefs 
gathered from all then- liills, and lieard the lovely sound. They praised 
the voice of Cona ! the first among a thousand bards ! But age is now 
on my tongue ; my soul has failed ! I hear, at times, the ghosts of bards, 
and learn their pleasant song. But memory fails on my mind. I hear 
the call of years ! They say, as they pass along, why does Ossian sing? 
Soon shall he lie in the narrow house, and no bard shall raise liis fame ! 
Roll on, ye dark-brown years ; ye bring no joy on your course ! Let the 
tomb open to Ossian, for his strength has failed. The sons of song are 
gone to rest. My voice remains, like a blast that roars, lonely, on a sea- 
surrounded rock, after the winds are laid. The dark moss whistles there ; 
the distant mariner sees the waving trees ! " 

In all probability these poems were neither entire forgeries 
nor wholly genuine. That a Celtic poet named Ossian lived in 
the third century is believed, and that traditions of him, or 
fragments of his 'song, remained and were treasured by his 
Gaelic descendants is altogether probable. Names of other 
Celtic bards and heroes are mentioned throughout the poem, 
giving it the air of genuineness. 

In Thomas Ciiatterton (1752-1770) we have the most - 
remarkable instance of precocity on record. When we con- 
sider all that he accomplished and all that he suffered in that 
short life of less than eighteen years, it seems almost incred- 
ible. 

He was born in Bristol. His parents were poor, and his ed- 
ucation was obtained chiefly at a charity school. His preco- 



220 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



cious genius was displayed in his infancy. When eleven years 
of age he composed the following hymn, beginning:^ 

"Almighty Framer of the skies, 
O let our pure devotion rise 

Like incense in thy sight! 
Wrapt in impenetrable shade, 
The texture of our souls -was made, 

Till thy command gave light. 

" The sun of glory gleamed, the ray 
Refined the darkness into day. 
And bid the vapors rise," etc. 

Encouraged, no doubt, by the success of Macpherson's im- 
posture (if it was wholly an imposture), Chatterton conceived 
the idea of imitating some early English writers. Quaint and 
ingenious as his device was, and successful to a degree. Gray 
and a few others, vf ho were better versed in the old language, 
recognized the forgeries. The works were represented by Chat- 
terton to have been " wroten " by the "gode prieste Thomas 
Rowley." There was a prevailing taste for antiquities and 
heraldry ; so for one man, fond of heraldic honors, Chatterton 
made out a pedigree extending to the time of William the Con- 
queror; for another he obligingly found an ancient poem, The 
Eomaunt of i/ie Cnyghte (Knight), which had been written, he 
said, by one of the gentleman's ancestors in the fourteenth 
century. The poems of Chatterton published as "Thomas 
Rowley's " consist of the Tragedy of ^lla, The Execution of 
Sir Charles Baivdin, The Battle of Hastings, The Tournament, 
etc. The mask of these poems is mainly their antiquated spell- 
ing and phraseology. 

Conscious of his power, and hopeful of success as a poet, 
Chatterton went to London. Here he would have starved to 
death, but in despair he ended his life by poison. Too proud 
to accept of charity, he refused a dinner offered him by his 
landlady but the day before his death. Thus sadly ended the 
life of that 

" Marvellous boy, 
The sleepless soul that perished in liis pride." 

William Julius Mickle (1734-1789) translated the "Lu- 



SCOTTISH POETS. 



221 



siad " of Camoens, the great Portuguese poet, but is better 
known by his sprightly little poem The Mariner^s Wife., or 
There''s nae Luck about the House. His poem of Cumnor Hall 
is said to have suggested to Sir Walter Scott his romance of 
Kenilworth. 

To Dr. Thomas Percy (1728-1811) may be traced the influ- 
ences acting on the poetry of the next and succeeding ages. 
By his indefatigable researches he brought to light the old 
ballads of England and Scotland, opening up a fresh fountain 
of poetry. His collection is known as Beliques of English Poetry, 
or, more familiarly, Percy'' s lieliques. 

There were other poets of this time, who wrote less, but are 
perhaps as well known and admired as those already named. 
They were James Beattie (1735-1803 ), author of The Minstrel; 
Mark Akexside (1721-1770), who wrote Pleasures of the Imag- 
ination; the two brothers Joseph and Thomas Warton" (1728- 
1790), the latter best known, however, by his History of English 
Poetry. William Shenstone (1714-1763) wrote The School- 
mistress; WILLIA3I Falconer (1735-1769), The Shipwreck; 
KOBERT Blair (1699-1746), The Grave. 

Scottish Poets. 

Thomson, Blair, Macpherson, Beattie, Mickle, and Falconer 
were all Scotchmen, but they wrote in the purest English. 
Among those who wrote in dialect, Robert Ferguson's 
(1751-1774) name is most prominent. 

There are several gems of Scottish poetry written about this 
time. The well-known ballad of Auld Pohin Gray was written 
by Lady Axxe Lindsay, afterwards Lady Anne Barnard 
(1750 -1825), who for fifty years kept to herself the secret of its 
authorship. 21ie Flowers of the Forest is the name of two na- 
tional ballads written by Miss Jane Elliot (1727-1805) and 
Mrs. Cockburn ( 1794). They are lamentations for Scot- 
land's losses at Flodden Field. TJie Braes of Yarrow was writ- 
ten by William Ha3IILTON (1704-1754), the ''volunteer-lau- 
reate" of the Jacobites. 

]\Iany Jacobite songs were written about this time ; for, al- 
though the party was overthrown at Culloden, the Scots clung 
with an ardent devotion to the last representative of the Stuart 
19- 



222 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



line, and for his ill fate poured out their grief in song. Among 
these songs might be named Bonny Charlie 's noo awa\ Safely 
Cer the Friendly Main^ A Hundred Pipers., WhaH be King hut 
Charlie^ etc. The Song of Tullochgoriim^ written by the Key. 
JoHK SiviN?^EK (1721-1807), an Episcopal clergyman, is a plea 
for unity and good-will between the factions. 

The Drama. 

We have seen the origin of the drama in the Miracle Plays, 
its period of splendor in Shakespeare's time, its cessation in 
Milton's, its revival in a corrupt form in Dryden's time, and 
its dulness in the time of Pope. The lighter comedy began 
when Gay wrote his Beggars' Opera. In the age of Dr. John- 
son not only the drama itself, but the histrionic art was raised 
to a high degree of excellence. Daa^id Gauiiick (1716-1779), 
the prince of actors, was also a dramatist. Samuel Foote 
(1720-1777) and George Colman (1733 1794) were actors and 
dramatists, and Colley Gibber, an old man in Johnson's time, 
was still acting and writing. The only classic comedies, how- 
ever, of the time are Goldsmith's Good-Natured Man and She 
Stoops to Conquer., and Sheridan's Bivals., School for Scandal., 
and The Critic. 

Tragedy was represented by Johnson's Irene., Home's 
Douglas., and Young's Bevenge. Thomson also wrote a trag- 
edy called ^ojj/ionis&ft, but it was not successful on the stage. 

Th.e Novel, 

A new species of literature, the novel, was springing up to 
replace the drama. Samuel Kichardson (1689-1761), whose 
first novel, Pamela, was published in 1740, may be styled the 
father of the English novel, while Fielding, Smollett, and 
Sterne, immediately following, should be considered with 
Richardson as the founders of this new feature in literature. 

Pamela is represented as a poor country girl, innocent and 
beautiful, who enters the service of a rich gentleman. The 
whole story is told in a series of letters, mostly written by 
Pamela, who details minute accounts of her master's wicked- 
ness, the trials that surround her, and her afflictions, until her 
marriage with her former persecutor. Clarissa Harlowe is con- 



THE NOVEL. 



223 



sidered Kichardson's best novel. It is a story of the middle 
class of society. The heroine represents Richardson's ideal of 
perfect female virtue and honor. This novel met with even 
more success than the first. Four years afterwards Sir Charles 
Granclison appeared. As Pamela represents the lower class of 
society, Clarissa Harlowe the middle, Sir Charles Grandison is 
made to represent the highest. 

The hfe of Henry Fielding (1707-1754) was in strong con- 
trast with that of Richardson, so it is not to be wondered at 
that his first novel, Joseph Andrews^ was a caricature of Pamela. 
This hero was represented as the brother of Pamela, and Pa- 
mela herself was represented as Mrs. Booby. The hero and 
his friend, Parson Adams, are models of virtue ! By far the 
best of Fielding's novels is Tom Jones. In that are some in- 
imitable paintings of real life. Two other novels of Fielding's 
were the Life of Jonathan Wild and a Journey from this Wo7'ld 
to the Next. His novel entitled Amelia was written as a sort of 
tribute of gratitude to his wife, who, through all his wild, ex- 
travagant life, exhibited ceaseless patience and devotion. 

Tristram Shandy and the Sentimental Journey, besides a vol- 
ume of Sermons, constitute the works of Laurence Sterne 
(1713-1768), a man whose character little fitted him for the 
serious profession of a minister. 

Tristram Shandy is a biographical romance, the story being 
told partly in the character of the "phantom-like Tristram" 
and partly by Yorick, a clergyman and a humorist, supposed 
to be Sterne himself. The Sentimental Journey was written as 
a sequel to Tristram Shandy. The material for this work was 
prepared during the author's travels on the Continent. In 
both novels Sterne "is always trembling on the verge of an 
obscene allusion," and is seldom read now except in extracts. 
The same may be said of all these novelists, who wrote for a 
less refined age than our own. 

The novels of Tobias George Smollett (1721-1771) are, 
Eoderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, The Adventures of Ferdi- 
nand, Count Fathom; Sir Launcelot Greaves, and Humphrey 
Clinker. 

Smollett's genius was versatile, and, besides these novels, he 



224 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



wrote various short poems, principal of which are the Tears of 
Scotland.,^ an Ode to Independence., and lines on Levan Water, 
near whose banks his early life was spent. 

Smollett also wrote a History of England, but his violent po- 
litical opinions were seen in this, as in many of his other works. 
He also translated Don Quixote, and was at one time editor of 
a Beview. His health failing, he travelled on the Continent, 
and, like Fielding, died in a foreign land. 

Under the head of Novels of this period might be mentioned 
Goldsmith's charming story of the Vicar of Wakefield and Miss 
BuKNEY's (Madame D'Arblay's) (1752-1840) ^veZma, which 
was written when the author was but eighteen.! Johnson's 
EasseJas comes under this head as a Didactic Tale, and The Fool 
of Quality, by Henry Brooke (1706-1783), is a Theological 
Tale. Horace Walpole (1717-1797), the friend of Gay, 
wrote a novel, and called it the Castle of Otranto. 

Theologians. 

The rise of Methodism, which dates from about 1730, gave a 
new impulse to the literature of theology. It was a reaction 
against "the faithless coldness of the times." 



The Tears of Scotland was an expression of a generous heart, indignant at the 
outrages committed in the Highlands by the English forces under the Duke of Cum- 
berland, after the battle of Culloden. Smollett was not a real Jacobite, but his sym- 
pathies with Scotland, his native country, were so warmly expressed in his poem, 
that his friends, fearing his personal safety, represented the danger of so free an 
expression against government, whereupon the indignant Scotchman sat down and 
added another and still stronger stanza to the six already written : 
"While the warm blood bedews my veins, 

And unimpaired remembrance reigns, 

Resentment of my country's fate 

Within my filial breast shall beat ; 

And, spite of her insulting foe, 

My sympathizing verse shall flow : 

Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn 

Thy banished peace, thy laurels torn." 
t Macaulay says : " Miss Burney did for the English novel what Jeremy Collier did 
for the English drama. She first showed that a tale might be written in which both 
the fashionable and the vulgar life of London might be exhibited with great force, 
and with broad comic humor, and which yet should not contain a single line incon- 
sistent with rigid morality, or even with virgin delicacy. She took away the reproach 
which lay on a most useful and delightful species of composition. She vindicated 



THEOLOGIANS. 



225 



John and Charles Wesley, sons of Rev. Samuel Wesley, 
after a home education by the best of mothers, were sent to 
Oxford University. Here, with fourteen other students, they 
organized an association for seeking religious improvement. 
They were reviled by their fellow-students, and called the 
"Godly Club," "Bible Bigots," "Bible Moths," and, on ac- 
count of the methods which they adopted as rules of conduct, 
they were also ridiculed under the name of "Methodists." 

The two brothers accompanied General Oglethorpe to America 
in 1735, and after two or three years spent in travelling in the 
colonies, and preaching in various places, they returned. John 
Wesley (1703-1791) then began his field-preaching, travelling 
through Great Britain and Ireland; and, in the open air, gather- 
ing around him men, women, and children, to listen to the new 
gospel which he felt commissioned to preach. Thus, until he 
was eighty-eight years of age, did this venerable man continue 
to labor, and when, on March 2, 1791, he died, he had preached 
forty thousand sermons, and travelled three hundred thousand 
miles. John Wesley's contributions to literature were, A Plain 
Account of the People Galled Methodists.^ and A Survey of the 
Wisdom of God in the Creation. He also, in the midst of his 
ministerial labors, wrote various hymns. 

Charles Wesley (1708-1788) wrote six thousand separate 
hymns, composing as he rode on horseback, — at any time, and 
all times. 

George Whitefield (1714-1770) was associated with John 
Wesley, and was the greatest field-preacher of that or any age. 
Hume said he would go twenty miles to hear him preach. 
Whitefield followed the Wesleys to Georgia in 1737, and, after 
having crossed the Atlantic Ocean seven times, died at ISTew- 
buryport, Mass. Whitefield was the founder of the Calvinistic 
branch of the Methodists. 

Dr. Robert Lowth (Bishop Lowth) (1710-1787) enriched 
literature by his Prelections (Lectures) on Hebrew Poetry.^ and a 
Translation of Isaiah. He also wrote a Life of William of 
Wykeham. 

the right of her sex to have an equal share in a fair and noble promise of letters. 
Burke had sat up all night to read her writings, and Johnson had pronounced her 
superior to Fielding." 

P 



226 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Bishop Warburton (1G98-1779) was famous in his own day 
as a controversialist. His chief work, The Divine Legation of 
Moses, was never finished. Gibbon, the historian, called it a 
"brilliant ruin," and' the metaphor has been applied to War- 
burton's literary character. 

In 1736 Bishop Butler (1692-1752) published his Analogy 
of Beligion to the Course of Nature. Philip Doddridge (1702- 
1751) was a dissenting minister. Besides sermons he wrote 
many fine hymns. The following epigram was composed by 
him : 

" Live while you live, the epicure would say, 
And seize the pleasures of the present day. 
Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries, 
And give to God each moment as it flies. 
Lord, in my views let both united be, 
I live in pleasure when I live to Tliee." 

Philosophy. 

In England, as in France, skepticism reigned in philosophic 
minds. The historian David Hume (1711-1776) was most con- 
spicuous among the writers on metaphysical science. His chief 
oftence against orthodoxy was his avowed disbelief in miracles, 
asserting that it was ^moire probable that human testimony 
should be false, than that the grand harmony of nature's laws 
should be interrupted. It was not against religion, but against 
dogmatic theology that Hume contended. His Treatise on 
Human Nature was published in 1738, after a sojourn of three 
years in France. It was not well received, and he afterwards 
recast and republished it, under the title of An Inquiry Concern- 
ing the Human Understanding. Other metaphysical works of 
Hume's are An Inquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, 
The Natural History of Beligion, and Dialogues on Natural Be- 
ligion. 

Scotland seemed to foster metaphysical talent. Hume's spec- 
ulations invited other theorists into the field, some in support 
of his ideas, but most of them to oppose him. Among the 
latter Dr. Thomas Reid (1710-1796) was most prominent, who, 
in his Inquiry into the Human Mind, made a direct attack upon 
Hume. 



HISTORY. 



227 



In 1776 Adam Smith (1723-1790) published the first work on 
political economy. In this he advocated principles of free trade, 
and promulgated the idea that labor, not money, is the true 
source of national wealth. This work is entitled An Inquiry 
into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. 

One of the greatest lights in physical science of this age, in 
England, was Dr. Joseph Priestley (1733-1804), whose dis- 
covery of oxygen "was to chemistry what the discovery of 
gravitation was to the celestial mechanism," so that he has 
been well styled " the Newton of chemistry." ^ 

He was as earnest in his religious investigations as in his 
scientific researches. Dissenting from the commonly received 
doctrines of the church, he was early imbued with the belief 
in Unitarianism. In the face of opposition and abuse he fear- 
lessly maintained and promulgated his belief, f 

History. 

David Hume, whose philosophical treatises had met with 
but little favor, published, in 1754, the first part of his History 
of England. This work may be said to have been written back- 
wards. It began with the Stuart line of kings, and embraced 
the reigns of James I. and Charles I. The anti-puritanic tone 
of this volume so offended the Whig party that it was not only 
neglected but cried down. Two years after he published a con- 
tinuation of the Stuart kings, till the Ke volution of 1688. This 
volume was received more favorably than the first had been. 
He then went back, in point of time, and took up the history 
of the line of kings preceding the Stuarts, calling it the History 



* Oxygen, that element in nature hitherto called phlogiston, " fire air," had always 
been a stumbling-block in scientific experiments, until Priestley, in 1774, discovered 
its place among gases and its use in supporting life. Of this, the greatest discoverer 
of his age thus simply speaks : " Who can tell whether this pure air may not, at last, 
become a fashionable luxury? As yet, only two mice and myself have had the privi- 
lege of breathing it." 

t So great was the opposition which his theological works created that he found it 
necessary, he said, to write a pamphlet annually in their defence ! After several of 
his publications were issued, a mob in Birmingham, where he resided, set fire to his 
house, destroying a valuable library, apparatus, and specimens. Soon after this he 
emigrated to America, and settled in Northumberland, Pennsylvania. Here he reared 
a little church, where, until his death in 1804, he continued to preach his doctrines, 
now widely spread over the civilized world. 



228 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



of England under the House of Tudor. This was liked but little 
better than the first parts. ISfot discouraged, he went back to 
a still earlier time, in fact, to the earliest times in English his- 
tory ; and, in 1762, eight years after the publication of the first 
volume, he issued the work as it now stands — A History of 
England from the Invasion of Julius Ccesar to the Revolution of 
1688. 

Smollett's history of England from that date to the end 
of the reign of George II. is frequently published as a continu- 
ation of Hume's history. 

Edward Gibbon (1737-1794), like Hume, was affected by 
the skepticism of the time. Early in life, while at Oxford, he 
had embraced the Catholic religion, but was removed from the 
university by his father and sent to Switzerland, that old 
stronghold of Protestantism, as a cure for his Catholic opin- 
ions. At Lausanne, in Switzerland, he spent five years, and 
here he met Yoltaire.* His life at Lausanne had fitted him for 
French society, for that portion of Switzerland was as French 
as France itself. In Paris he had access to all the fashionable 
drawing-rooms, where men and women gathered to discuss, in 
brilliant language, the affairs of the nation and philosophy in 
general. France was trembling on the verge of a great revo- 
lution, and yet social intercourse — "society"— seemed to be the 
great interest of the day. Again Gibbon went to Lausanne, to 
fit himself by study for a tour through Italy. He "had the 
root of all scholarship in him, the most diligent accuracy and 
an unlimited faculty of taking pains," and everything of in- 
terest concerning Italy was studied by this indefatigable stu- 
dent. After this careful preparation he set out on his travels 
through Italy. His first impressions of Eome are thus given : 

" My temper is not very susceptible of enthusiasm, and the enthusi- 
asm which I do not feel I have ever scorned to atfect. But at the dis- 
tance of twenty -five years I can neither forget nor express the strong 

* Here also he met with Mile. Susanne Curchod, whose lively wit and elegant 
manners won the admiration of the youth of twenty, and she reciprocated his at- 
tachment. Returning to England, he found his father objected to the "strange alli- 
ance," " and so," says the dutiful son, " I yielded to my fate ; I sighed as a lover, I 
obeyed as a son." The lady afterwards became Madame Necker, and was the mother 
of the celebrated Madame de Stael. 



HISTORY. 



229 



emotions which agitated my mind as I first approached and entered the 
Eternal City. After a sleepless night, I trod with a lofty step the ruins 
of the Forum. Each memorable spot where Romulus stood, or Tully 
spoke, or Caesar fell, was, at once, present to my eye, and several days 
of intoxication were lost and enjoyed, before I could descend to a cool 
and minute examination." 

He made good use of his time, spending the most of it in and 
around Rome and l^aples, studying with curious diligence 
every subject of interest. He says : 

"It was at Rome, on the 15th of October, 1764, as I sat musing 
amid the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted friars were singing 
vespers in the temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline 
and fall of the city first started to my mind." 

Here, then, was a definite centre, round which all his future 
study was to concentrate. The subject grew in breadth and 
in interest. His original idea was to consider but the decline 
and fall of the city of Rome. This expanded into the fall of 
the empire of the West, and this into the fall of the Eastern 
empire, or the taking of Constantinople by the Turks in 1453. 

The vast scope of the design rendered still further study 
necessary. Not only was classical knowledge needed, but a 
knowledge of all the social, political, and religious institutions 
of the Middle Ages. 

William Robertson (1721-1793) began Ufe as a clergyman, 
but directing his attention to historical subjects, is ranked 
among the historians of the eighteenth century. He was born 
in Scotland, and educated at the University of Edinburgh. 
While Hume was writing his detached portions of English his- 
tory, Robertson was writing a History of Scotland^ During the 
Reigns of Queen Mary and James VL, till his Accession to the 
Throne of England. Ten years afterwards he published his 
History of the Emperor Charles V. , of Germany. His last work 
was a History of America. 

In Biography the period is made illustrious by Johnson's 
Lives of the Poets ^ and by the greatest biographical work ever 
written — Boswell's Life of Johnson. 

James Boswell (1740-1795) was a Scottish advocate, who, 
early in life, attached himself to Dr. Johnson, and, by watching 
20 



230 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



every act and listening to every word of his great patron, was 
enabled to present, to the life, the character of this singular 
man. 

SAMUEL JOHNSON. 

Through the indefatigable labor and devotion of Boswell we 
have a more perfect realization of Dr. JoHNSOisr (1709-1784) 
than of any man of that period. We see him as the great dic- 
tator in the literary world of London ; we grow familiar with 
his eccentricities, close our eyes to the jerks and contortions of 
his body, and see only his manly strife, with adversit}?-, the sus- 
tained integrit}^ of his purpose, his considerate care for others, 
and his love for human kind. 

Johnson was one of the laborers in the literary field, who, 
by patient, upward toiling, at last won the summit of lit- 
erary fame. He was a Conservative in politics and religion. 
His strong prejudices kept him a Tory, and his strong religious 
sentiments kept his faith unswerving. The tendency of the 
age he did not take the pains to sift. "Hume," he said, "was 
an echo of Voltaire ; " Rousseau was one " fit to be hanged ; " 
and Voltaire, himself, "possessed sharp intellect, but little 
learning." Johnson was English in everything — in thought, 
in education, and feeling. "He had studied," says Macaulay, 
"not the genus man, but the species Londoner." 

Johnson's father was a poor bookseller, and not able to defray 
the college expenses of his son ; so, leaving college without a 
degree, Johnson at first tried teaching. Only three pupils came 
to school. One was David Garrick (1716-1779), between 
whom and Johnson a life-long friendship was formed. This 
school, it may be readily conjectured, did not succeed. While 
teaching, Johnson had begun a tragedy — Irene. It was still 
uncompleted when he was obliged, for lack of pupils, to break 
up his school at Lichfield. Johnson and his pupil, David Gar- 
rick, set out together to seek their fortunes in the great heart 
of London. Johnson was twent3r-eight and Garrick twenty-one. 
The latter was going to complete his education, and then apply 
himself to law ; but, fortunately for histrionic art, he followed 
his inclination and the guidance of his genius, and went upon 
the stage. 

In what manner Johnson lived during his first effort to pro- 



\ 



HISTORY. 



231 



cure employment in London, may be judged from his own 
words : 

" I dined very well for eight-pence, with very good company. It 
used to cost the rest a shilling, for they drank wine ; but I had a cut of 
meat for sixpence, and bread for a penny, and gave the waiter a penny ; 
so that I was quite as well served, nay, better than the rest, for they 
gave the waiter nothing." 

His tragedy of Irene was offered at Drury Lane theatre and 
rejected. Johnson from that time became a regular contributor 
to the Gentlemen''s Magazine. 

His first year in London was one of wretched poverty, Not 
unfrequently he had not the means to pay for a meal, and often 
he and his friend, Richard Savage (1696-1743), another starv- 
ing poet, walked the streets of London at night, too poor to pay 
for a night's lodging. In this bitterest experience of unrecog- 
nized power Johnson wrote his satire entitled London.^ 

While Johnson was toiling as the veriest day-laborer, earning 
a mere pittance, Garrick had won his way into popular favor 
as the finest actor of the time. He was now manager of the 
Drury Lane theatre, and, in 1749, brought out upon the stage 
Johnson's long-neglected tragedy of Irene, f It was not suc- 
cessful ; but, owing to Garrick's liberality, Johnson realized by 
its performance and its sale more than by any of his previous 
works. 

In 1747 Johnson had issued a Plan for an English Dictionary, 
addressing the prospectus to Lord Chesterfield. That gentle- 
man gave but little heed to this compliment ; but, undismayed, 
the great lexicographer toiled on, writing, at intervals, minor 
works for his support. The Vanity of Human Wishes, written 
in imitation of the tenth satire of Juvenal, was published in 1748. 
Two periodical papers, in the style of Steele and Addison's 
Tatler and Spectator, Johnson issued from 1750 to 1760. They 
were the Banibler and the Idler. The latter was of short con- 

* Independent from his boyhood, he would accept nothing that he did not earn. 
While at college a pair of new shoes, that had been kindly left for his acceptance by 
one who noticed his need, were flung into the street by the proud-spirited youth. 

fThe first night of its performance Johnson appeared in one of the side boxes, in 
a scarlet waistcoat and a gold-laced hat, fancying that as the author he owed it to 
himself and to the public to dress in a distinguished manner. 



232 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



tinuance. The Rambler was issued twice a week, but the style 
was too sombre and too pedantic to suit the general reader. 

In 1755, after seven years of earnest labor, the Dictionary of 
the English Language was completed and published. The indif- 
ference with which Lord Chesterfield had received the dedica- 
tion of the plan of the dictionary irritated Johnson ; and, when 
the work was completed and Chesterfield wrote two articles 
praising the dictionary, Dr. Johnson took it as a "courtly de- 
vice " on the part of Chesterfield to have the completed work 
dedicated to himself, as the prospectus had been seven years 
before. Scorning the proffered patronage bestowed at that late 
day, Johnson wrote to Chesterfield the following letter, which, 
for manly disdain and elegance of sarcasm, is unequalled : 

TO THE EIGHT HONORABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD. 

" My Lord : — I have been lately informed, by the proprietor of The 
World, that two papers, in which my dictionary is recommended to the 
public, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished is an 
honor which, being very little accustomed to favors from the great, I 
know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. 

When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, 
I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of 
your address ; and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself 
le vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre : that I might obtain that regard for 
which I saw the world contending ; but I found my attendance so little 
encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue 
it. When I had once addressed your lordship in public, I had ex- 
hausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar 
can possess. I had done all that I could ; and no man is well pleased 
to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. 

" Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your out- 
ward rooms, or was repulsed from your door ; during which time I have 
been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to 
complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, with- 
out one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of 
favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before. 

" The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found 
him a native of the rocks. 

" Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man 
struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached tlie ground, 



HISTORY. 



233 



encumbers him with help ? The notice which you have been pleased 
to take of my labors, had it been early, had been kind ; but it has been 
delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it ; till I am solitary, 
and cannot impart it ; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it 
is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit 
has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider 
me as owing that to a patron which Providence has enabled me to do 
for myself. 

" Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any 
favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed, though I should con- 
clude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long awakened 
from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself with so much 
exaltation. 

" My lord, your lordship's most humble, most obedient servant, 

Samuel Johnson." 

Johnson had but little knowledge of the basis or structure 
of the English language. Of its Teutonic life-blood he was 
wholly ignorant ; so that the dictionary, with respect to its 
etymology, is imperfect ; but the definitions, and quotations 
illustrating the use of words, are excellent, most especially 
when we consider that it was the first work of the kind in the 
language. 

Johnson's strong individuality is as observable in the dic- 
tionary as in any of his writings. His definitions are marked 
by prejudices and characteristic independence ; as, when he 
defines a "pairoji" as "one who countenances, supports, or pro- 
tects," and adds, by way of emphasis, "commonly a wretch 
who supports with insolence and is paid with flattery." 

"Oa^s " he defines as "a grain which, in England, is gener- 
ally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people." 

'"''Pension^ an allowance made to any one without an equiva- 
lent. In England it is generally understood to mean pay given 
to a state hireling for treason to his country." 

'■''Pensioner^ a slave of state hired by a stipend to obey his 
master." 

^''Lexicographer^ a writer of dictionaries, a harmless drudge." 
Network^ anything reticulated or decussated at equal dis- 
tances, with interstices between the intersections." 
20* 



234 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Johnson himself afterwards received a pension from the 
King, and, although reluctant to receive it, it was a happy- 
release from the bondage of poverty. He thus expressed his 
obligation: "The English language does not afford me terms 
adequate to my feelings on this occasion. I must have recourse 
to the French. I am penetre with his Majesty's goodness." 

Johnson, in turn, had his pensioners. His house in Bolt 
court was the asylum of no less than six poor people, all with 
exaggerated peculiarities and with but little love for each other.* 

Basselas was written to pay the expenses of his mother's 
funeral. Its subject is still his favorite theme, the vanity of 
human wishes. His edition of Shakespeare was issued in 1765. 
It added but little to his fame. 

His happiest hours were those spent at the Literary Club, 
which had been organized by Sir Joshua Reynolds and himself, f 
Johnson's writings but half convey the character of his mind. 
It is in his conversation, J in his quick flashes of wit, united to 
profound wisdom, that we see his gigantic mental structure. 

Wine and its effects were the frequent subjects of conversa- 
tion. On the side of total abstinence Johnson stood alone. 
At a dinner at General Paoli's he said : 

" Wine makes a man better pleased with himself. I do not say that 
it makes him more pleasing to others. The danger is, that while a 
man grows better pleased with himself, he may be growing less pleasing 
to others. Wine gives a man nothing. It only puts in motion what 
has been locked up." 

* He writes: " Mrs, Williams hates everybody; Levett hates Desmoulins, and does 
not love Williams ; Desmoulins hates them both; Poll loves none of them." And 
yet with these quarrelsome pensioners upon his bounty he divided his own small 
allowance, and tolerated their ingratitude, paying a, servant extra wages to bear with 
their ill-temper and strife. 

t During Johnson's life this Club numbered among its members, besides the two 
chief founders, the illustrious Edmund Burke, Goldsmith, Dr. Thomas Percy, David 
Garrick, Sir William Jones, Boswell, Charles James Fox, Edward Gibbon, Adam 
Smith, the brothers Joseph and Thomas Warton, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan. 
At this Club Johnson's marvellous conversational powers were exercised. He was 
the great central figure, aud loved to be surrounded by those who, as he said, could 
send him back every ball that he threw. This Club became a power in the literary 
world. The meetings were held once a week at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard street. 

I "Johnson used to say that he made it a constant rule to talk as well as he could, 
both as to sentiment and expression." 



HISTORY. 



235 



To one of his friends suggesting that "wine, then, is a key 
which opens a box, but the box may be full or empty, ^' John- 
son rephed : 

" Nay, sir, conversation is the key ; wine is a picklock, which forces 
open the box, and injures it." 

On one occasion, speaking of a nobleman who was never sat- 
isfied unless his guests " drank hard," Johnson said : 

That is from having had people around him whom he is accustomed 
to command. From what I have heard of him, one would not wish to 
sacrifice himself to such a man. If he must always have somebody to 
drink with him, he should buy a slave, and then he would be sure to 
have it. They who submit to drink as another pleases, make them- 
selves his slaves." 

Of his own experience in wine drinking, he said : 

I did not leave off wine because I could not bear it, but because it 
is so much better for a man to be sure that he is never to be intoxicated, 
never to lose the power over himself. I shall not begin to drink wine 
again till I grow old and want it,'- 

He was then in his seventieth year. 

It was quite fashionable for ladies to mingle in the literary 
assemblies when held in their own homes, and to take part in 
the conversation. These social literary gatherings were called 
Blue- Stocking Cliibs, and the ladies who attended them Blue 
Stockings, though the title came from the fact of one of the 
gentlemen, Mr. Stillingfleet, always wearing blue stockings. 
So excellent was the conversation of this gentleman, that when 
he was absent from the party, it used to be said, " We can do 
nothing without the blue stockings." 

In 1773, in company with Boswell, Dr. Johnson visited the 
Hebrides, and his journey through Scotland greatly overcame 
his prejudice against the people of that country. One gener- 
ous Scotchman, in reverting to Johnson's definition of oats, as 
a grain which in England is given to horses, but in Scotland 
supports the people, said, "And where will you find better 
horses or better men ? " 

As may be supposed, Johnson had no sympathy with Eng- 



236 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



land's rebellious American subjects. He was no statesman and 
no politician, and his political treatise, Taxation no Tyranny.^ 
was a complete failure, as even Boswell admitted. 

His last and best work, The Lives of the Poets., was undertaken 
at the request of some London booksellers.* In this work the 
peculiarities of his style, often called Johnsonese, were very 
much modified. He was as true to his prejudices as to his 
principles, and many of the Lives suffer at his hands. Ilis dis- 
like of Milton's puritanic opinions caused him to be unmindful 
of half of Milton's greatness, and to Gray he was positively 
narrow and unjust. The Life of Cowley, Johnson himself con- 
sidered as the best of the series. Johnson had not a genuine 
love for poetry. His criticisms were based on established rules, 
which he himself could write by ; so that in Shakespeare and 
Milton, who wrote before Dryden and Pope had prescribed the 
path in which the Muse should travel, Johnson could see more 
violations of poetic laws than beauty and grandeur of poetic 
imagery. And yet finer praise of Shakespeare has seldom been 
given than that which Johnson gave in the Preface to his edi- 
tion of Shakespeare : 

" The sand heaped by one flood is scattered by another ; but the rock 
always continues in its place. Tlie stream of Time, which is continu- 
ally washing the dissoluble fabrics of other poets, passes without injury 
by the adamant of Shakespeare." 

Johnson's love of antithesis is displayed in his wonderful 
parallel between Dryden and Pope. Every word falls into its 
proper place, and every sentence is as clear as it is harmonious. 
The peculiar Johnsonese style which his earlier writings illus- 
trate was best described by Goldsmith when he said, if Johnson 
should write a story about little fishes, he ''would make the 
little fishes talk like whales." The sentence preceding the one 
above quoted from the Preface to Shakespeare is an exami3le 
of his inflated style : f 

The accidental compositions of heterogeneous modes are dissolved 

* Boswell, regretting that Johnson was not to have the choosing of the poets whose 
lives he was to write, but " was to furnish a preface and life to any poet the book- 
sellers pleased," asked him if he would do this to any dunce's works, if they desired 
it. "Yes, and say he was a dunce," said Johnson. 

t See also definition of Network, p. 233. 



HISTORY. 



237 



by the chance which combined them; but the uniform simplicity of 
primitive qualities neither admits increase nor suffers decay. The 
sand/' etc. 

Johnson was buried in the south transept of Westminster 
Abbey, near the foot of Shakespeare's monument, and near 
his friend Garrick. A blue flagstone bears the simple inscrip- 
tion, in Latin, of his name and age— Samuel Johnson, LL.D. 
Died 13th day of December, 1784, aged 75. 

The genius of Edmund Burke (1730-1797) displayed itself 
in Johnson's famous Literary Club. In Parliament he was 
conservative, and dreaded every form of revolution in govern- 
ment. ' In the trouble with the American colonies he favored 
compromise, recommending that Great Britain should assert 
her right to tax the colonies, but that she should, at the same 
time, refrain from exercising that right. His career has been 
thus summed up : 

" His life is a history of those eventful times, for in them he acted a 
part more conspicuous than any other man. His able and eloquent op- 
position to those infatuated measures of the ministry which led to and 
prolonged the contest between England and our own country — his advo- 
cacy of the freedom of the press— of an improved libel law — of Catholic 
emancipation — of economical reform — of the abolition of the slave- 
trade — his giant efforts in the impeachment of Warren Hastings — and 
his most eloquent and uncompromising hostility to the French Kevolu- 
tion, in his speeches in Parliament and in his well-known ' Eeflections 
on the Eevolution in France ' — all these will ever cause him to be viewed 
as one of the warmest and ablest friends of man." 

Burke was born in Dublin, Ireland. He was a student at 
Trinity College, Dublin, with Goldsmith, and graduated there 
at the age of eighteen. He soon after went to London to study 
law. Here he contributed to periodicals. His first publication 
of any importance was his Vindication of Natural Society^ a 
satire in imitation of Lord Bolingbroke's attack upon revealed 
religion. 

Burke's next essay was On the Sublime and Beautiful. This 
placed him at once in the first ranks of writers on criticism. 
Other publications followed, including the Annual Begister, 
which he edited and mainly supported. In 1774 he made his 



238 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Speech on American Taxation, and in the next year his equally 
famous Speech on American Conciliation. 

In the trial of Warren Hastings, which lasted for seven years, 
Burke was the chief prosecutor. His opposition to the French 
Eevolution was bitter and strong, and in 1790 he published his 
celebrated Beflections on the devolution of France. This was 
answered by Thomas Paine (1737-1809) in The Bights of Man. 

THE LETTERS OF JUNIUS. 

For three years — from 1769 to 1772— the literary and politi- 
cal world was kept in a state of admiration and suspense con- 
cerning the authorship of a series of letters signed J¥Nius, 
which appeared in the Public Advertiser of London. Their tone 
was that of bitter invective and powerful sarcasm. The letters 
were addressed to different members of the Ministry, and 
even to the King himself, but so complete was the secrecy of 
the authorship, that to this day it is not known with certainty 
who wrote them. They were attributed to many of the leading 
men of the day, Burke among the number, but it is now gen- 
erally believed that they were written by Sm Philip Francis 
(1740-1818), a leading member of the Opposition in the House 
of Commons. 

No period in England's history has ever produced such states- 
manlike eloquence as the Letters of Junius and the speeches 
of Burke, Pitt, Sheridan, and Fox. 

One of the purest patriots of this time was Sir William 
Jones (1746-1794), whose well-known Ode, beginning "What 
Constitutes a State?" represents his high-minded political 
views. He is principally known, however, for his Oriental 
studies. Receiving an appointment to a responsible position 
in India, he improved his advantages for the study of the East- 
ern languages, and, by his arduous labors, brought to light the 
unexplored riches of the literature of the East. 

One of the most important works pubhshed in this period 
was the Commentaries on the Laws of England, by Sir William 
Blackstonb (1723-1780). 



LITERATURE .OF THE AGE OF DR. JOHNSON. 239 



Illustrations of the Literature of the Age of 
Dr. Johnson. 

GOLDSMITH. 

From The Deserted Village. 

Sweet, smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, 
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn : 
Amid thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, 
And desolation saddens all thy green ; 
^ One only master grasps the whole domain, 
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain. 
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day. 
But, choked with sedges, works its weedy way ; 
Along thy glades, a solitary guest, 
The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest; 
Amid thy desert walks the lapwing flies. 
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries. 
Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all. 
And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall ; 
And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, 
Far, far away thy children leave the land. 

■X- -X- -x- * * -i^- 

Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close 
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. 
There, as I passed with careless steps and slow, 
The mingling notes came softened from below ; 
The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, 
The sober herd that lowed to meet their young; 
The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, 
The playful children just let loose from school ; 
The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, 
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind : 
These all in sweet confusion sought the shade. 
And filled each pause the nightingale had made. 

•K- ^ -St * ^- -X- 

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way. 
With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, 
There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, 
The village master taught his little school : 



240 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



A man severe he was, and stern to view: 

I knew him well, and every truant knew ; 

Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace 

The day's disasters in his morning face; 

Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee 

At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; 

Full well the busy whisper, circling round, 

Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned. 

Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught. 

The love he bore to learning was in fault ; 

The village all declared how much he knew — 

' T was certain he could write, and cipher too. 

Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, 

And e'en the story ran that he could gauge. 

In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill, 

For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still ; 

While words of learned length and thundering sound 

Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; 

And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, 

That one small head could carry all he knew. 

But past is all his fame. • The very spot 

Where many a time he triumphed is forgot. 

From The Good-Natured Man. 

What a pity it is that any man's good-will to others should produce 
so much neglect of himself as to require correction ! Yet we must touch 
his weaknesses with a delicate hand. There are some faults so nearly 
allied to excellence that we can scarce weed out the vice without eradi- 
cating the virtue. 



I saw with indignation the errors of a mind that only sought applause 
from others ; that easiness of disposition, which, though inclined to the 
right, had not courage to condemn the wrong. I saw with regret those 
splendid errors, that still took name from some neighboring duty ; your 
charity, that was but injustice ; your benevolence, that was but weak' 
ness ; and your friendship but credulity. — Ibid. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF DR. JOHNSON. 



YOUNG. 

From KiGHT Thoughts. 
Night I. 

Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! 

He, like the world, his ready visit pays 

Where Fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes; 

Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, 

And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. 

* * -H- * * 
Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne. 

In ray less majesty, now stretches forth 
Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. 
Silence, how dead ! and darkness, how profound ! 
Nor eye, nor listening ear, an object finds ; 
Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse 
Of life stood still, and nature made a pause; 
An awful pause ! prophetic of her end. 

■5«- -Sfr * * 

Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer; 
Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; 
Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life. 
\ Procrastination is the thief of time. . 

* -Sf * -H- * 

Of man's miraculous mistakes this bears 
The palm, "that all men are about to live," 
Forever on the brink of being born. 

* * -x- * -x- 
All promise is poor dilatory man. 

And that through every stage. When young indeed, 
In full content we sometimes nobly rest, 
Unanxious for ourselves, and only wish. 
As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. 
At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; 
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; . 
At fifty chides his infamous delay. 
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ; 
In all the magnanimity of thought, 
Kesolves, and re-resolves ; then dies the same. 
21 Q 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Night II. 

Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor; 
Part with it as with money, sparing ; pay 
No moment, but in purchase of its worth ; 
And what it 's worth, ask death-beds ; they can tell. 
Part with it as with life, reluctant ; big 
With holy hope of nobler time to come ; 
Time higher aimed, still nearer the great mark 
Of men and angels, virtue more divine. 

* -H- -H- * * 

Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed ; 
Who does the best his circumstance allows. 
Does well, acts nobly ; angels can do no more. 

•5f * * -X- * * 

The man 

Is yet unborn who duly weighs an hour. 

"J'i;e lost a day/". — The prince who nobly cried, 

Had been an emperor without his crown. 

* -x- * -x- * * 
Who murders time, he crushes in the birth 

A power ethereal, only not adored. 
■X- -x- -x- -x -x- * 

We waste, not use, our time ; we breathe, not live ; 
Time wasted is existence ; used, is life. 

* * -x- -x- * -x- 
The spirit walks of every day deceased ; 

And smiles an angel, or a fury frowns. 

-x- * -x- -x- * 

The man who consecrates his hours 
By vigorous efibrts and an honest aim. 
At once he draws the sting of life and death ; 
He walks with Nature, and her paths are peace. 
■X- * -x- -x- * -x- 

'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 
And ask them what report they bore to heaven. 

•X- -x -x- ^ * 

How blessings brighten as they take their leave. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF DR. JOHNSON. 



THOMSON. 

From The Seasons. 
Winter. 

Through the hushed air the whitening shower descends, 

At first thin-wavering, till at last the flakes 

Fall broad and wide and fast, dimming the day 

With a continual flow. The cherished fields 

Put on their winter robe of purest white. 

'T is brightness all, save where the new snow melts 

Along the mazj current. Low the woods 

Bow their hoar head ; and ere the languid sun, 

Faint from the west, emits his evening ray ; 

Earth's universal face, deep hid and chill. 

Is one wide dazzling waste, that buries wide 

The works of man. Drooping, the laborer-ox 

Stands covered o'er with snow, and then demands 

The fruit of all his toil. The fowls of heaven. 

Tamed by the cruel season, crowd around 

The winnowing store, and claim the little boon 

Which Providence assigns them. 

Spring. 

Shrill- voiced and loud, the messenger of morn ; 
Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings 
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 
Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse 
Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush 
Bending with de^vy moisture, o'er the heads 
Of the coy quiristers that lodge within, 
Are prodigal of harmony. 

■3«- -Jf -x- * * * 

Delightful task to rear the tender thought, 
And teach the young idea how to shoot. 

Autumn. 

The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, 
A gentler mood inspires ; for now the leaf 
Incessant rustles from the mournful grove. 
Oft startling such as studious walk below, 
And slowly circles through the wavering air. 



244 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



COLLINS. 

On the Death op the Poet Thomson. 

In yonder grave a Druid lies, 
Where slowly winds the stealing wave ; 

The year's best sweets shall duteous rise 
To deck its poet's sylvan grave! 

In yon deep bed of whispering reeds 

His airy harp shall now be laid, 
That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, 

May love through life the soothing shade. 

Then maids and youths shall linger here, 
And, while its sounds at distance swell, 

Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear 

To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. 

Eemembrance oft shall haunt the shore 
When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, 

And oft suspend the dashing oar 
To bid his gentle spirit rest I 

From Ode to Evening. 

If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, 

May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear 

Like thy own solemn springs. 

Thy springs and dying gales. 

O, nymph reserved, while now the bright-hair'd sun 
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts, 

With brede ethereal wove, 

O'erhang his wavy bed. 

Now air is hush'd, saye where the weak-eyed bat, 
With short, shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing, 

Or where the beetle winds 

His small but sullen horn. 

As oft he rises, midst the twilight path, 
Against the pilgrim, borne in heedless hum : 
Now teach me, maid composed. 
To breathe some soften'd strain. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF DR. JOHNSON. 245 

GRAY. 

From The Bard. 

This ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that Edward I., 
when he completed the conquest of that country, ordered all the bards 
that fell into his hands to be put ^ death. 

Euin seize thee, ruthless King ! 

Confusion on thy banners wait! 
Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, 

They mock the air with idle state. 
Helm nor hauberk's twisted mail, 
Nor e'en thy virtues. Tyrant, shall avail 
To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, 
From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears. 

^ ^ ^ * "ik 

On a rock whose haughty brow 

Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, 

Eobed in the sable garb of woe, 
With haggard eyes the Poet stood. 

Loose his beard, and hoary hair 

Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air ; 

And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire. 

Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. 

•X- -K- ^ -x- ■x- 

Cold is Cadwallo's tongue. 

That hush'd the stormy main. 
Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: 

Mountains, ye mourn in vain 
Modred, whose magic song 

Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head. 
On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, 

Smear' d with gore, and ghastly pale : 

Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; 
The famish' d eagle screams, and passes by. 
Dear lost companions of my tuneful art. 

Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes. 
Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, 

Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — 
No more I weep. They do not sleep. 

On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, 
I see them sit; they linger yet. 

Avengers of their native land: 

21* 



246 BISTORT OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



With me in dreadful harmony they join, 

And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. 

Weave the warp, and weave the woof, 
The winding-sheet of Edward's race. 

Give ample room and verge enough 
The characters of hell to trace. 
Mark the year, and mark the night, 
When Severn shall re-echo with affright 
The shrieks of death through Berkley's roof that ring, 
Shrieks of an agonizing King! 

From Ode on Eton College. 

To each his sufferings : all are men, 

Condemned alike to groan ; 
The tender for another's pain, 

Th' unfeeling for his own. 
Yet, ah ! why should th^ know their fate, 
Since sorrow never comes too late. 

And happiness too swiftly flies! 
Thought would destroy their paradise. 
No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 

'Tis folly to be wise. 

WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 

The Mariner's Wife. 

But are ye sure the news is true? 

And are ye sure he's weel? 
Is this a time to think o' wark? 
Ye jauds, fling bye your wheel. 

For there 's nae luck about the house, 

There 's nae luck at a'. 
There's nae luck about the house, 
When our gudeman's awa. 

Is this a time to think o' wark, 

When Colin's at the door? 
Eax down my cloak — I'll to the quay, 

And see him come ashore. 

Rise up and make a clean fireside, 
Put on the mickle pat; 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF DR. JOHNSON. 247 



Gie little Kate her cotton goun, 
And Jock his Sunday's coat. 

And mak their shoon as black as slaes, 

Their stockins white as snaw ; 
It's a' to pleasure our gudeman — 

He likes to see them braw. 

There are twa hens into the crib, 

Hae fed this month and mair, 
Mak haste and thraw their necks about, 

That Colin weel may fare. 

My Turkey slippers I '11 put on, 

My stockins pearl blue — 
It's a' to pleasure our gudeman, 

For he's baith leal and true. 

Sae sweet his voice, sae smooth his tongue; 

His breath's like caller air; 
His very fit has music in't. 

As he comes up the stair. 

And will I see his face again? 

And will I hear him speak ? 
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought: 

In troth I'm like to greet. 

LAURENCE STERNE. 

God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb. — From The Sentimental 
Journey. 

The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the 
oath, blushed as he gave it in ; and the recording angel, as he wrote it 
down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out forever. — From 

Tristram Shandy. 

HENRY FIELDING. 

Little more worth remembering occurred during the play, at the end 
of which Jones asked him which of the players he liked the best. To 
this he answered, with some appearance of indignation at the question, 
" The king, without doubt." 

" Indeed, Mr. Partridge," says Mrs. Miller, " you are not of the same 
opinion with the town ; for they are all agreed that Hamlet is acted by 
the best player * who ever was on the stage." 



* Garrick. 



248 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



" He the best player ! " cried Partridge with a contemptuous sneer. 
Why I could act as well as he myself. I am sure if I had seen a 
ghost, I should have looked in the very same manner and done just as 
he did." — From Tom Jones. 

JOSEPH WARTON. 

He who wishes to know whether he has a true taste for poetry or not 
should consider whether he is highly delighted or not with the perusal 
of Milton's Lycidas. 

JOHNSON. 

From The E ambler.— No. 185. 

A wise man will make haste to forgive, because he knows the true 
value of time, and will not suffer it to pass away in unnecessary pain. 
He that willingly suffers the corrosions of inveterate hatred, and gives 
up his days and nights to the gloom of malice and perturbations of 
stratagem, cannot surely be said to consult his ease. Resentment is a 
union of sorrow with malignity, a combination of a passion which all 
endeavor to avoid with a passion which all concur to detest. 

Nothing can be great which is not right. Nothing which reason con- 
demns can be suitable to the dignity of the human mind. To be driven 
by external motives from the path which our own heart approves, to 
give way to anything but conviction, to suffer the opinion of others to 
rule our choice or overpower our resolves, is to submit tamely to the 
lowest and most ignominious slavery, and to resign the right of direct- 
ing our own lives. 

Though learning may be conferred by solitude, its application must 
be attained by general converse. He has learned to no purpose that is 
not able to teach ; and he will always teach unsuccessfully, who cannot 
recommend his sentiments by his diction or address. 

From The Letters of Junius. 

Letter to the King. 

Sir : — It is the misfortune of your life, and originally the cause of 
every reproach and distress which has attended your government, that 
you should never have been acquainted with the language of truth, 
until you heard it in the complaints of your people. It is not, how- 
ever, too late to correct the error of your education. We are still in- 
clined to make an indulgent allowance for the pernicious lessons you 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF DR. JOHNSON. 249 



received in your youth, and to form the most sanguine hopes from the 
natural benevolence of your disposition. We are far from thinking you 
capable of a direct, deliberate purpose to invade those original rights of 
your subjects, on which all their civil and political liberties depend. 
Had it been possible for us to entertain a suspicion so dishonorable to 
your character, we should long since have adopted a style of remon- 
strance very distant from the humility of complaint. The doctrine in- 
culcated by our laws, that the king can do no wrong, is admitted without 
reluctance. We separate the amiable, good-natured prince from the 
folly and treachery of his servants, and the private virtues of the man 
from the vices of his government. Were it not for this just distinction, 
I know not whether your majesty's condition *ipr that of the English 
nation would deserve most to be lamented. 

BURKE. 

Character of Junius. 

Where, Mr. Speaker, shall we look for the origin of this relaxation 
of the laws and of all government ? How comes this Junius to have 
broken through the cobwebs of the law, and to range uncontrolled, un- 
punished through the land ? The myrmidons of the court have been 
long, and are still, pursuing him in vain. They will not spend their 
time upon me or you : no ; they disdain such vermin when the mighty 
boar of the forest, that has broken through all their toils, is before them. 
But what will all their efforts avail ? No sooner has he wounded one 
than he lays down another dead at his feet. For my part, when I saw his 
attack upon the king, I own my blood ran cold. I thought he had ven- 
tured too far, and that there was an end of his triumphs : not that he 
had not asserted many truths. Yes, sir, there are in that composition 
many bold truths, by which a wise prince might profit. But, while I 
expected from this daring flight his final ruin and fall, behold him ris- 
ing still higher, and coming down souse upon both houses of Parlia- 
ment. Yes, he did make you his quarry, and you still bleed from the 
wounds of his talons. You crouched, and still crouch beneath his rage. 
Nor has he dreaded the terror of your brow, sir ; he has attacked even 
you ; he has ; and I believe you have no reason to triumph in the en- 
counter. In short, after carrying away our royal eagle in his pounces, 
and dashing him against a rock, he has laid you prostrate. Kings, 
Lords, and Commons are but the sport of his fury. Were he a mem- 
ber of this house, what might not be expected from his knowledge, his 
firmness, and integrity ! He would be easily known by his contempt of 
all danger, by his penetration, by his vigor. Nothing would escape his 



250 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



vigilance and activity ; bad ministers could Conceal nothing from his 
sagacity ; nor could promises or threats induce him to conceal anything 
from the public. 

John Howard. 

I cannot name this gentleman without remarking that his labors and 
writings have done much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind. He 
has visited all Europe, not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces or 
the stateliness of temples ; not to make accurate measurements of the 
remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of the curiosity of 
modern art ; not to collect medals or collate manuscripts ; but to dive 
into the depths of dungeons ; to plunge into the infection of hospitals ; 
to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and di- 
mensions of misery, depression, and contempt ; to remember the for- 
gotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and to compare 
and collate the distresses of all men in all countries. 

Sir Joshua Keynolds. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds was, on very many accounts, one of the most 
memorable men of his time. He was the first Englishman who added 
the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country. In 
taste, in grace, in facility, in happy invention, and in the richness and 
harmony of coloring he was equal to the great masters of the renowned 
ages. In portrait he went beyond them ; for he communicated to that 
department of the art in which English artists are the most engaged, a 
variety, a fancy, and- a dignity derived from the higher branches, which 
even those who professed them in a superior manner did not always 
preserve when they delineated individual nature. His portraits remind 
the spectator of the invention of history and of the amenity of land- 
scape. In painting portraits he appears not to be raised upon that plat- 
form, but to descend to it from a higher sphere. His paintings illus- 
trate his lessons, and his lessons seem to have been derived from his 
paintings. He possessed the theory as perfectly as the practice of 
his art. To be such a painter he was a profound and penetrating 
philosopher. 

WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM. 

A long train of these practices has at length unwillingly convinced 
me that there is something behind the throne greater than the king 
himself.— /Speech, March 2, 1770. 

The poorest man may, in his cottage, bid defiance to all the force of 
the crown. It may be frail ; its roof may shake ; the wind may blow 



SYLLABUS. 



251 



through it ; the storms may enter, the rain may enter — but the King of 
England cannot enter ! All his forces dare not cross the threshold of the 
ruined tenement. — Speech on the Excise Bill. 

If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop 
was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms, — never — 
never — never ! — Speech, November 18, 1777. 

Syllabus. 

In the period between 1727 and 1784 William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, 
was the great political centre. Dr. Johnson was the literary centre. 

The battle of Culloden was the last effort of the Stuarts to regain the 
throne of England. 

George III. ascended the throne in 1760. 

The influence of the press began to be felt. 

The British Empire was established in India. 

An interest was aroused in Oriental studies. 

A contrast is presented between the age of Johnson and the preceding 
age of Pope. Patronage of authors had ceased and an age of poverty for 
authors began. 

A genuine taste for literature had to be created. 

Johnson and this century established a good prose style. 

Dryden's and Pope's influence in poetry was still felt in Johnson's time, 
but a more natural tone was given by Goldsmith, Collins, Gray, Thomson, 
and Young. 

Gray's poems are, Elegy in a Country Churchyard, An Ode to Spring, 
The Progress of Poesy, The Bard, Ode on Adversity, and an Ode on a Dis- 
tant View of Eton College, etc. 

"William Collins was a poet of genius. Like Gray, his poems are mostly 
lyrical. His Ode to the Passions is his chief poem. 

Oliver Goldsmith was of Irish descent. His principal works are The 
Traveller and Deserted Village; his series of essays entitled the Bee; 
his Letters from a Citizen of the World ; his novel or story. The Vicar of 
Wakefield ; his plays, >S'Ae Stoops to Conquer and The Good-Natured 3Ian; 
his Histories of England, Greece, and Pome (adapted) ; his condensed 
translation of BufFon, which he called Animated Nature. 

James Thomson was the poet of nature. His chief poems are The 
Seasons and Castle of Indolence. 

Edward Young was author of Night Thoughts. He resembled Pope 
somewha,t in style. 



252 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Literary impostures were a peculiar feature of this period, perpetrated 
by Thomas Chatterton, James Macpherson, and "Junius." 

Chatterton died at eighteen. He was a wonderful genius. 

Macpherson was the probable author of much of Ossian's poetry. 

William Julius Mickle was a more natural spontaneous poet. 

Dr. Percy rendered a vast aid to poetry in his collection of old ballads, 
known as Percy's Reliques. 

Other poets of the time were James Beattie, Mark Akenside, Joseph 
Warton, Thomas Warton, William Shenstone, Robert Blair. 

Scotch poets were Eobert Ferguson, Lady Anne Barnard, William Ham- 
ilton, etc. 

The drama was best represented by the two comedies of Goldsmith, by 
Sheridan's plays, and by the acting of Garrick. 

The novel dates its existence to this period, to Samuel Richar-dson. His 
first novel was Pamela. This was followed by Clarissa Harlowe and 
Sir Charles Grrandison. 

Other novelists of the time were Fielding, Sterne, and Smollett, 

Fielding's novels are Joseph Andrews, Tom Jo7ies, The Life of Jonathan 
Wild, A Journey from this World to the Next, and Amelia. 

The novels of Sterne are Tristram Shandy and The Sentimental Joiurney. 

Smollett's novels are Roderick Random, Perigrine Pickle, The Adventures 
of Ferdinand, Count Fathom; Sir Launcelot Greaves, and Humphrey 
Clinker. 

Other novels of this time were Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield, Miss 
Burney's Evelina, Dr. Johnson's Rasselas, Burke's Fool of Quality, Horace 
Walpole's Castle of Otranto. 

The most important divines were the Wesleys, George Whitefield, Robert 
Lowth, Joseph Butler, and William Warburton. 

The skepticism of the age was represented by Voltaire in France, and 
Hume in England. 

Scotland produced metaphysical talent. 

Adam Smith wrote The Wealth of Nations, the first work on Political 
Economy. 

Dr. Joseph Priestley discovered oxygen gas. He was persecuted for his 
religious beliefs. 

The three great historians in England at this time were Hume, Gibbon, 
and Robertson. The greatest biographer was James Boswell. 

Dr. Johnson was conservative, prejudiced, and narrow, but honest, earn- 
est, and grand in his way. He is best remembered for his conversation. 

His tragedy of Irene was unsuccessful on the stage, even in Garrick's 
hands. 

His London and The Vanity of Human Wishes were satires. 
The Rambler and Idler were periodicals, published by Johnson after the 
style of the Tattler and Spectator. 
Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language was published in 1755. 



SYLLABUS. 



253 



His story of Rasselas was written to defray the expenses of his mother's 
funeral. 

His edition of Shakespeare did not contribute to his fame. 
Johnson's last and best work was The Lives of the Poets. 
Edmund Burke was conservative. 

The literary works of Burke are A Vindication of Natural Society, An 
Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, Reflections on the French Revolution, 
and numerous speeches. 

The Letters of Junius were written to the king. and the ministry. Their 
authorship was unknown. 

Sir Philip Francis was the probable author. 

Sir William Jones was a genuine patriot and scholar. 

Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws of England was published in 
1765. 

22 



BURNS. 



CHAPTER X. 
The New Era— A Return to Nature. 

The Age of Burns and Cowper. 

1784:~1800. 

THE eighteenth century may be divided into three distinct 
periods — that of Pope, of Johnson, and that of Burns. In 
the age just ended there was a perceptible dawning of natural 
vigor, but it was reserved for the next era to show the com- 
plete return to nature in the spontaneous outpouring of song. 
It was reserved for Robert Burns, the "Ayrshire plowman," 
to break through the hardened soil, impoverished with the 
sameness of successive crops. Dryden had sowed rhymed 
couplets and transplanted the classics into British soil. Pope 
had reaped Dryden's crops and sowed the seeds he had gath- 
ered, never varying the rotation, and the product was still 
rhymed couplets and classic imitations. In the next age Gray 
tried to engraft into poetry the withered classic branch that 
Pope bequeathed him, but it would not prosper. Collins, 
Thomson, and Goldsmith planted some fresh seeds and left the 
soil of English poesy greener ; but the influence of Pope's 
roller was still keeping the perfect level of the smooth-shaven 
lawn, and nothing less than a plowshare could break up the 
hard, unyielding soil, and call back the daisy to the field, the 
wild birds to their long-deserted woodlands. 

ROBERT BURNS. 

This singer had no need to go to ancient Greece or Rome for 
inspiration. Close at hand he found it. Every flower, every 

*254 



THE AGE OF BURNS AND COWPER. 



255 



dumb animal around, furnished him a theme. Happy for this 
plowman, and for the world of poetry, if all of his inspirations 
had been as innocent as these. Like his great prototype, 
Chaucer, he was truest to himself and nature when alone with 
her in open fields, with the pure, fresh air of heaven around him. 

Near the banks of "bonny Doon " stands the little clay- 
built cottage in which Egbert Burns (1759-1796) was born. 
Close by are the ruins of "Alloway's auld haunted kirk," and 
two miles to the north is the town of Ayr. Perhaps no better 
description of Burns 's home could be given than that which he 
himself has left us in the Cotter^s Saturday JSfight, when 

" With joy unfeign'd brothers and sisters meet, 

An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers ; ^ 
The social hours, swift-wing'd unnotic'd fleet, 

Each tells the uncos ^ that he sees or hears. 
The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; 

Anticipation forward points the view. 
The mother, wi' her needle and her shears, 

Gars 3 auld claes look amaist as weel's the new ; 
The father mixes a' wi' admonition due." 

William Burns, the poet's father, was a man of sterling qual- 
ities, ennobling poverty and hardship, and exemplifying his 
son's brave words, 

" The honest man, though e'er sae poor, 
Is king o' men for a' that." 

To educate his young family was his one ambition. His own 
education was superior to that of most farmers in his condition, 
and to him all the family turned for guidance and instruction. 
In that humble, clay -walled cottage were to be found, not only 
all the school-books common at that time, and the familiar tra- 
ditions of Scotland's heroes, but the plays of Shakespeare, the 
sermons of Jeremy Taylor, Locke on the Human Understanding, 
Boyle's lectures, Pope's complete works, and last, but not least, 
the works of Allan Eamsay and Kobert Fergusson.^' On one 

* From the reading of these two Scotch poets Burns ascribed the waking of his 
own muse. "These," said he, "I pored over driving my cart or walking to labor, 
song by song, verse by verse, carefully noting the true, 'tender or sublime, from 
affectation and fustian." 

1 inquires. 2 strange things. 3 makes. 



256 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



occasion, " some one entering the house at meal-time found the 
whole family seated each with a spoon in one hand and a book 
in the other." 

The thrifty mother had a mind stored with old songs and 
traditions, which she repeated by the "clean hearthstane," 
lending cheer to many a winter's night. Like her husband, 
she was of a deeply religious nature. Robert was the eldest 
of seven children. Of all these the second brother, Gilbert, 
seems to have been to the poet the most companionable.^ To- 
gether they studied their early lessons ; together they tilled the 
unyielding soil. From his eighteenth to his twenty-fifth year 
Robert Burns labored with his brother as a farm hand, receiv- 
ing from his father seven pounds a year for his services. His 
days were full of drudgery ; but as soon as the evening came 
and the farm work was ended, he bade farewell to toil and 
care, and gave himself up to pleasure— either to penning the 
verses he had composed while at his farm work, or to the social 
circle, not always the best. 

Poetry was Burns's highest enjoyment ; but it was not with 
him a sacred art. He loved it as he loved all things that added 
to his enjoyment. If he had known of his ultimate triumphs, 
he might possibly have resisted evil. 

Finally, discouraged with repeated failures in farming, he was 
about starting for the West Indies, when a letter from Dr. Black- 
lock, of Edinburgh, changed the whole current of his existence. 
The poet had published a volume of poems for the purpose of 
defraying his expenses to the West Indies, and these meeting 
the appreciative eye of Dr. Blacklock convinced that gentle- 
man of the rare genius of their author. 

" His opinion," says Burns, " that I would meet with encouragement 
in Edinburgh for a second edition of my poems, fired me so much that 
away I posted for that city without a single acquaintance or a single 
letter of introduction." 

The whole winter of 1786-'87 in Edinburgh was to Burns a 

* " Gilbert used to recall with delight the days when they had to go with one or two 
companions to cut peat for winter fuel, because Robert was sure to enliven their toil 
with a rattling fire of witty remarks on men and things, mingled with the expres- 
sions of a genial, glowing heart, perfectly free from the taint which he afterwards 
acquired by contact with the world." 



THE AGE OF BURNS AND COWPER. 257 



succession of brilliant pageantries, with himself the central 
figure. He was lionized and feted by the elite, and substantial 
proof of genuine appreciation was given by liberal subscriptions 
for a new edition of his poems. The capital of Scotland was at 
that time the great seat of learning. Dr. Robertson, the his- 
torian, was the head of the university, Dugald Stewart was 
professor of moral philosophy, and Dr. Hugh Blair, who occu- 
pied the chair of belles-lettres, was then delivering his cele- 
brated lectures on rhetoric. Adam Smith, though not con- 
nected with the university, was in the city at that time, so 
likewise was the novelist, Henry Mackenzie. 

At this time Burns had composed The Cotter^s Saturday Night, 
The Twa Dogs, Address to the Beit, The Mountain Daisy, To a 
Mouse, and many of his descriptive poems, while innumerable 
rhymed epistles flowed from his pen. His prose letters are as 
remarkable for their stiffness as his rhymed ones for their ease 
and fluency. In his prose his thoughts, even, seem constrained, 
and move as if in straight-jackets ! But he says : 

" Leeze me on rhyme ! it 's aye a treasure, 
My chief, amaist my only pleasure, 
At hame, a-fiel', at wark, at leisure. 

The Muse, poor hizzie ! 
Though rough an' raploch be her measure, 

She's seldom lazy." 

And it was only in his native Scotch dialect that his Muse 
could revel. 

With his wife, Jean,* he removed to a new farm at Ellisland, 
and, for a time, was a happier, better man than he had been 
since he and his brother used to cut peat together in the bog. 
But the farm which he had bought was poor ; his crops failed, 
as they always had failed, and, fearing the wolf at his door, he 
sought employment as an exciseman, and removed to Dumfries. 
This was the last step towards a downward career. 

While at Ellisland he composed Tar)2 o' Shanter, To Mary in 
Heaven, Bonny Doon, and a few short poems. "Autumn," he 



* After making love and writing songs to a score of lasses, lie at length married 
Jean Armour. To posterity lie has left one sacred image— that of " Highland Mary." 
Death sanctified her in the poet's memory and in ours. 
22* R 



258 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



says, "is my propitious season. I make more verses in it than 
in all the year else." When seized with a poetic inspiration 
he used to wander off by some burn-side, and croon over to 
himself his thick-coming fancies.* 

Burns's custom in writing songs was to fit the words to the 
air, after which he submitted them to his wife's voice, the 
"sweetest wood-note wild" in the country, he used to say. 
He also added stanzas to old songs. Auld Lang Syne was an 
ancient song. As it now stands it is entirely Burns's. Sympa- 
thy with the French Revolution, together with the patriotic 
love of Scotland's heroes, inspired the song of Scots wha ha. 

The last years of the poet's life were spent at Dumfries, and 
there is but little that is pleasant to recall of his life there. At 
war with himself and the world, he sank lower and lower in 
the esteem of both, trying, alas ! to drown his remorse in mad- 
dening pleasures. He cherished a growing dislike to the rich 
and titled, in whose smiles he once had basked. To name a 
lord in his presence became an offence. 

But the spark of genuine manhood still glowed within him, 
and it is a pleasure to know that only the year before his death 
he wrote that noblest poem, A Man 's a Man for a? that, 

WILLIAM OOWPER. 

Not to Burns alone does the world of poetry owe its new 
birth. The age was a period of revolutions in thought of every 
character. American independence, the struggle for liberty in 
France, were themes agitating all minds, and opening up a 
new era to mankind. 



* His wife describes his moods as she observed them when he composed both Highland 
Mary and Tarn o' Shanter. As the anniversary of Highland Mary's death approached^ 
he was always observed to grow melancholy. It was in October, 1789, that he wrote 
his song To Mary in Heaven. His wife says of him that, after a day of toil, " When 
twilight came he grew sad about something, and could not rest. He wandered first 
up the water-side, and then went into the stack-yard, and then threw himself on 
some loose sheaves, and lay looking at the sky, and particularly at a large, bright 
star, which shone like another moon. At last, but that was long after I left him, 
he came home." The song was then completed. Tarn o' Shanter was composed the 
next year. Mrs. Burns describes his excited appearance as she found him on the 
banks of the Nith wildly gesticulating, and reciting aloud the verses that came into 
his mind. "I wish you could have seen him," said she; "he was in such ecstasy, 
that the tears were happing down his cheeks ! " 



THE AGE OF BURNS AND COWPER. 259 



While Burns was pouring forth his spontaneous songs, a 
brother poet, in" England, William Cowper (1731-1800), with 
sweet refinement, was interpreting nature's quiet moods — M^as, 
like Burns, taking for his subjects of poetic inspiration themes 
of every-day life. The passing events of the day, too, stirred 
his quiet soul. Horrified with the acts of the Eeign of Terror, 
he wrote : 

"My ear is pained, 
My soul is sick of every day's report 
Of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled." 

And again he sighs : 

"Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness, 
Some boundless contiguity of shade, 
Where rumor of oppression and deceit. 
Of unsuccessful or successful war 
Might never reach me more." 

It was in quiet rural or domestic scenes that his spirit de- 
lighted. What a picture of fireside comfort in the lines : 

"Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast. 
Let fall the curtains, whee^ the sofa round. 
And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn 
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, 
That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, 
So let us welcome peaceful evening in." 

The life of Cowper was a very sad one. Gifted with refined 
and tender sensibility, he became a prey to morbid religious 
melancholy, which for many years caused him to live under a 
cloud of insanity. 

Although descended through a long line of noble families, 
from a king of England five hundred years before (Henry III.), 
Cowper cared little for these high pretensions. He says : 

"My boast is not that I deduce my birth 
From loins enthroned and rulers of the earth, 
But higher far my proud pretensions rise — 
The son of parents passed beyond the skies." 

His touching lines on his Mother's Picture have made all his 
readers familiar with the little, crouching, timid child : 

" Wretch even then, life's journey just begun." 



260 mSTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



We see the wistful, 3'earning little face at the nursery window, 
watching the sad funeral train that follows the body of his loved 
mother ; and in the dejected, grief-stricken child we see the 
epitome of the man. 

At six years of age he was placed at a neighboring school, 
where the sj'stem of fagging was in full force. At ten years 
of age he was sent to Westminster school, where he continued 
until his eighteenth year. Having spent three years in an at- 
torney's office, he entered the Middle Temple, where he con- 
tinued eleven years. A clerkship falling vacant in the House 
of Lords, and being at the disposal of one of Cowper's influen- 
tial relatives, it was offered to the poet, but the dread of appear- • 
iug before the House of Lords for an examination so preyed 
upon his sensitive mind, that he actually made attempts upon 
his own life. It was soon discovered that his nervous anxiety 
had resulted in insanity. A quiet retreat was secured for him 
with the congenial and never-to-be-forgotten family of Unwins. 
In one of his letters he saj^s : 

Tliev are altogether the most cheerful and engaging family it is pos- 
sible to conceive. I think now I should find every place disagreeable 
that had not an Unwin belonging to it." 

It was just this quiet cheerfulness that Cowper needed. After 
Mr. Unwin's death the family removed to Olney. Here, at 
the request of the Rev. Mr. Kewton, Cowper undertook to 
write a series of hymns, which, with those Mr. ^iTewton him- 
self supplied, constitute what is known as the Ohiey Collection 
of Hymns. Too much mental strain and anxiety concerning 
the sinfulness of his heart— which never entertained a bitter 
thought except against himself — was bringing on another attack 
of insanity. On the eve of this stroke, while walking alone in 
the fields, he composed the hymn beginning : 

"God moves in a mysterious way, 
His wonders to perform; 
He plants his footsteps on the sea, 
And rides upon the storm." 



* Of one of the large boys who had become the dread of this timid child, he said, 
in after-life, "I well remember being afraid to lift my eyes upon him higher than his 
knees, and I knew him better by his shoe-buckles than by any other part of his 
dress." 



THE AGE OF BURNS AND COWPER. 



261 



For five years reason's throne tottered, and one never-varying 
tiiouglit haunted him, — that God had rejected him. In vain 
all consolation was offered by the kind Dr. Newton. To Mrs. 
Unwin's healthy brain came the healthful idea that some amus- 
ing employment might divert his sad thoughts, and, upon this 
suggestion, he was presented with some pet rabbits or hares, 
the care of which greatly diverted his mind. 

The kind Mrs. Unwin seeing the good results of such occu- 
pation, now proposed to him some original work, whereupon 
the compliant Cowper produced successively The Progress of 
Error^ Truth^ Table Talk, and Expostulation. To these Hope 
and Charity, Conversation, and Betirement were added. Cowper 
was fifty years of age before he was known as a poet. 

To Mr. Newton, with whom he always held an intimate 
correspondence, he writes : 

" It will not be long, perhaps, before you will receive a poem, called 
The Progress of Error ; this will be succeeded, in due time, by one called 
Truth. Don't be alarmed. I ride Pegasus with a curb. He will never 
run away with me again. I have even convinced Mrs. Unwin that I 
can manage him, and make him stop when I please." 

Cowper's letters, when not pervaded with an unwholesome 
gloom, are as delightful as the most genial conversation. He 
writes frequently to his cousin, Mrs. Cowper, to Mrs. Unwin's 
son, and to Dr. Newton. 

The uneventful life at Olney was broken by the arrival of 
Lady Austin, who came up from London to reside at Olney. 
Meeting frequentl}^ with Cowper and Mrs. Unwin, a cordial 
friendship was established, and the society of this lady was 
most healthful to the melancholy poet. He says of her : 

" She is a lively, agreeable woman ; has seen much of the ways of the 
world, and accounts it a great simpleton, as it is. She laughs and makes 
laugh, without seeming to labor at it. She has many features in her 
character which you must admire, but one in particular, on account of 
the rarity of it, will engage your esteem. She has a degree of gratitude 
in her composition, so quick a sense of obligation, as is hardly to be 
found in any rank of life. Discover but a wish to please her, and she 
never forgets it ; not only thanks you, but the tears will start into her 
eyes at the recollection of the smallest service. With these fine feelings 
she has the most harmless vivacity you can imagine." 



262 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Her sprightly conversation never failed to cheer him. Once, 
in one of his gloomy moods, she told him the story of John 
Gilpin, which she had heard when she was a child. The next 
morning he confessed that the amusing story had kept him 
awake all night laughing over it, and that he had written a 
rhymed version of it. 

For more poems than John Gilpin we are indebted to Lady 
Austin. She now wished the poet to try his powers in blank 
verse. He hesitated to undertake the task, but finally said that 
he would if she would furnish a subject. " Oh ! " she replied, 
"you can never be in want of a subject ; you can write upon 
anything : write upon — this so/a." He complied ; and again we 
are indebted to Lady Austin for Cowper's Task. 

It is worthy of observation that every literary task of Cow- 
per's was suggested by a friend. His Hymns were suggested 
by Mr. Newton. His early poems were written to gratify Mrs. 
Unwin, and, as we have just seen, John Gilpin and The Task 
were suggested by Lady Austin.* 

The Task was completed in 1784, and a much more arduous 
enterprise was begun— again at the suggestion of Mrs. L^nwin 
and Lady Austin. This was nothing less than a Translation 
of Homer. It was well that just at this juncture he had a task 
so absorbing, for circumstances were shaping which were to 
cause the gentle poet much grief He was to lose his excellent 
friend Lady Austin. She removed from Olney, and again 
Cowper and Mrs. Unwin were left alone. Soon, however, 
another pleasant companionship replaced, as far as it could, 
that of Lady Austin. His cousin, Lady Hesketh, had returned 
to England from a long sojourn abroad, and proposed a visit to 
Olney. She came, and by her means Cowper and Mrs. Unwin 
were in many ways much benefited. 

Never was a poet blessed with truer friends. His simple, 

* At the suggestion of his publisher, Cowper undertook an edition of Milton's 
-works. The gentle poet had been so incensed at Johnson's treatment of Milton in 
his " Lives of the Poets," that he exclaimed, " I could thrash his old jacket till I 
made the pension jingle in his pocket!" "I mn convinced," he says, "that he has 
no ear for poetical numbers, or that it was stopped by prejudice against the harmony 
of Milton's. Was there ever anything so delightful as the music of ' Paradise Lost ' ? 
It is like that of a fine organ— has the fullest and the deepest tones of majesty, with 
all the softness and elegance of the Dorian flute." 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF BURNS. 263 



earnest nature attracted all who met him, and his urgent need 
called forth the highest motherly sentiments of the three women 
to whom he owed so much. The heaviest bereavement was 
awaiting him in the death of Mrs. Unwin. Her praise he had 
sweetly sung in the little poem To Mary, written three years 
before her death, after her health began to fail : 

" The twentieth year is well-nigh past 
Since first our sky was overcast ; 
Ah, would that this might be the last, 
My Mary ! 

" Thy spirits have a fainter flow, 
I see thee daily weaker grow ; 
'Twas my distress that brought thee low, 
My Mary ! " * 

His feeling of desertion by the supreme Giver of Good was 
the one ineradicable thought. It grew upon him, and but little 
of the time after Mrs. Unwin 's death was his mind sufficiently 
quieted to take up his work of revision. His last poem was a 
reflection of his despair. It was called The Castaway. 

In the spring of 1800 Cowper died. Those who watched by 
his bedside scarcely knew when the change came, so gently 
did the angel of death pass by ; but on the face of the sleeper 
was observed a look of " holy surprise," as if the gates on golden 
hinges turning had opened wide to his astonished gaze, and 
divine love was all that he saw. 

Illustrations of the Literature of the Age of Burns. 

BURNS. 

Bonny Doon. 

Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon, 
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair ! 

How can ye chant, ye little birds, 
And I sae weary, fu' o' care ! 



* Not alone in verse did Cowper sing her praise. His was the most grateful of 
hearts, and he fully appreciated the sacrifices she made for him and her incessant 
care. 



BISTORT OF ENGLISB LITjERATURE. 



Thou 'It break my heart, thou warbling bird, 
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn : 

Thou minds me o' departed joys, 
Departed never to return. 

Thou 'It break my heart, thou bonny bird, 

That sings beside thy mate ; 
For sae I sat, and sae I sang, 

And wist no' o' my fate. 
Aft hae I rov'd by bonny Doon 

To see the rose and woodbine twine ; 
And ilka bird sang o' its luve, 

And fondly sae did I o' mine. 

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, 

Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree ; 
And my fause lover stole my rose, 

But, ah ! he left the thorn wi' me. 
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose 

Upon a morn in June ; 
And sae I flourished in the morn, 

And sae was pu'd at noon. 

Bannockburn. 

Bruce's Address to his Army. 

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, 
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led ; 
Welcome to your gory bed. 
Or to victory ! 

Now 's the day, and now 's the hour ; 
See the front of battle lower; 
See approach proud Edward's power. 
Chains and slavery ! 

Wha will be a traitor knave? 
Wha can fill a coward's grave? 
Wha sae base as be a slave? 

Let him turn and flee! 

Wha for Scotland's king and law 
Freedom's sword will strongly draw. 
Freemen stand or freemen fa', 
Let him follow me ! 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF BURNS. 

By oppression's woes and pains ! 
By your sons in servile chains ! 
We will drain our dearest veins, 
But they shall be free ! 

Lay the proud usurpers low ! 
Tyrants fall in every foe ! 
Liberty 's in every blow ! 

Let us do or die ! 

From Tam O'Shanter. 

Care, mad to see a man sae happy. 
E'en drown'd himself amang the nappy. 
As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure. 
The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure. 
Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious ! 
O'er a' the ills o' life victorious ! 
But pleasures are like poppies spread ; 
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed ; 
Or like the snowfalls in the river — 
A moment white, then melts forever ; 
Or like the borealis race, 
That flit ere you can point their place ; 
Or like the rainbow's lovely form, 
Evanishing amid the storm. 

From Address to a Mouse. 

But, mousie, thou art no thy lane, 
In proving foresight may be vain ; 
The best laid schemes of mice and men 

Gang aft a gley. 
An lea'e us nought but grief an' pain 

For promised joy. 

Still thou art blest compar'd wi' me ! 
The present only toucheth thee: 
But, och ! I backward cast my e'e 

On prospects drear! 
An' forward, tho' I canna' see, 

I guess an' fear! 



266 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



From Address to a Louse o'n a Lady's Bonnet. 

O wad some power the giftie gie us 
To see oursels as others see us ! 
It wad frae monie a bhmder free us 
And foolish notion. 

From Address to the Unco Guid, or The Rigidly 
Righteous. 

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel, 

Sae pious and sae holy, 
Ye've naught to do but mark and tell 

Your niebour's faults and folly ! 

-Jf -x- * * 

Then gently scan your brother man, 

Still gentlier sister woman : 
Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, 

To step aside is human. 

^ -X- * -Sf * 

Who made the heart, 't is He alone 

Decidedly can try us ; 
He knows each chord — its varying tone, 

Each spring — its various bias. 
Then at the balance let's be mute. 

We never can adjust it; 
What 's done, we partly may compute, 

But know not xvhath resisted. 

OOWPER. 

From The Task. 

Winter Evening in the Country. 

Hark ! 't is the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, 
That with its wearisome but needful length 
Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon 
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright; 
He comes, the herald of a noisy world. 
With spattered boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks, 
News from all nations lumbering at his back. 
True to his charge, the close-packed load behind. 
Yet careless what he brings, his one concern 
Is to conduct it to the destined inn; 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF BURNS. 267 



And having dropped the expected bag, pass on. 
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch ! 
Cold and yet cheerful : messenger of grief 
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some ; 
To him indifferent whether grief or joy. 
Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks, 
Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet 
With tears, that trickled down the writer's cheeks 
Fast as the periods from his fluent quill. 
Or charged with amorous sighs of absent swains, 
Or nymphs responsive, equally affect 
His horse and him, unconscious of them all. 
But O, the important budget ! ushered in 
With such heart-shaking music, who can say 
What are its tidings? have our troops awaked? 
Or do they still, as if with opium drugged, 
Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave ? 
Is India free ? and does she wear her plumed 
And jewelled turban with a smile of peace. 
Or do we grind her still ? The grand debate, 
The popular harangue, the tart reply. 
The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit. 
And the loud laugh — I long to know them all ; 
I burn to set the imprisoned wranglers free. 
And give them voice and utterance once again. 

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, 
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round. 
And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn 
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, 
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each. 
So let us welcome peaceful evening in. 
Not such his evening who, with shining face. 
Sweats in the crowded theatre, and squeezed 
And bored with elbow-points through both his sides, 
Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage : 
Nor his who patient stands till his feet throb. 
And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath 
Of patriots, bursting with heroic rage, 
Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles. 

•3f * * -X- * 

'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, 
To peep at such a world ; to see the stir 



268 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; 
To hear the roar she sends through all her gates 
At a safe distance, where the dying sound 
Falls a soft murmur on the uninjured ear. 
Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease 
The globe and its concerns, I seem advanced 
To some secure and more than mortal height, 
That liberates and exempts me from them all. 

•55- -X- * * * ■ 

O Winter ! ruler of the inverted year, 
I crown thee king of intimate delights, 
Fireside enjoyments, homeborn happiness, 
And all the comforts that the lowly roof 
Of undisturb'd Eetirement, and the hours 
Of long, uninterrupted evening, know, 
•x- * -X- -X- * 

Here the needle plies its busy task. 
The pattern grows, the well-depicted flower, 
Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn. 
Unfolds its bosom ; buds, and leaves, and sprigs. 
And curling tendrils, gracefully disposed, 
Follow the nimble finger of the fair ; 

¥r * * • ^fr -X- 

The poet's or historian's page, by one 
Made vocal for the amusement of the rest ; 
The sprightly lyre, whose treasure of sweet soimds 
The touch from many a trembling chord shakes out 
And the clear voice symphonious, yet distinct, 
And in the charming strife triumphant still. 
Beguile the night, and set a keener edge 
On female industry: the threaded steel 
Flies swiftly, and unfelt the task proceeds. 

•55- ^ * -Jf 

I would not have a slave to till my ground, 
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, 
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth 
That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. 
■x- ■?(- * 

Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs 
Receive our air, that moment they are free. 
* -Sf * * * 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF BURNS. 269 



England, with all thy faults, I love thee still. 

^ ^ % * ^ 

There is a pleasure in poetic pains 

Which only poets know. 

***** 

Variety 's the very spice of life. 

That gives it all its flavor. 

***** 

Some seek diversion in the tented field, 

And make the sorrows of mankind their sport. 

But war's a game, which, were their subjects wise, 

Kings would not play at. 

***** 

He is the freeman whom the truth makes free. 

* * * * * 

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds. 

From his Letters. 

To the Eev. William Unwin. 
Amico Mio : 

Be pleased to buy me a glazier's diamond pencil, I have glazed the 
tAvo panes designed to receive my pine plants ; but I cannot mend the 
kitchen windows till, by the help of that implement, I can reduce the 
glass to its proper dimensions. If I were a plumber, I should be a 
complete glazier ; and possibly the happy time may come Avhen I shall 
be seen trudging away to the neighboring towns with a shelf of glass 
hanging at my back. If government should impose another tax upon 
that commodity, I hardly know a business in which a gentleman might 
more successfully employ himself. A Chinese, of ten times my fortune, 
would avail himself of such an opportunity without scruple ; and why 
should not I, who want money as much as any Mandarin in China ? 
Eousseau would have been charmed to have seen me so occupied, and 
would have exclaimed with rapture, " that he had found the Emilius 
who (he supposed) had subsisted only in his own idea." I would recom- 
mend it to you to follow my example. You will presently qualify your- 
self for the task, and may not only amuse yourself at home, but even 
exercise your skill in mending the church windows ; which, as it would 
save money to the parish, would conduce, together with your other 
ministerial accomplishments, to make you extremely popular in the 
place. 

I have eight pair of tame pigeons. When I first enter the garden in 
23^ 



270 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



the morning, I find them perched upon a wall, waiting for their break- 
fast ; for I feed them always upon the gravel walk. If your wish should 
be accomplished, and you should find yourself furnished with the wings 
of a dove, I shall undoubtedly find you amongst them. Only be so good, 
if that should be the case, to announce yourself by some means or other. 
For I imagine your crop will require something better than tares to 
fill it. 

Your mother and I last week made a trip in a post-chaise to Gay- 
hurst, the seat of Mr. Wright, about four miles off. He understood 
that I did not much affect strange faces, and sent over his servant on 
purpose to inform me that he was going into Leicestershire, and that 
if I chose to see the gardens, I might gratify myself without danger of 
seeing the proprietor. I accepted the invitation, and was delighted 
with all I found there. The situation is happy, the gardens elegantly 
disposed, the hothouse in the most flourishing state, and the orange-trees 
the most captivating creatures of the kind I ever saw. A man, in short, 
had need have the talents of Cox or Langford, the auctioneers, to do 
the whole scene justice. 

Our love attends you all. 

Yours. 

September 21, 1779. 

An Epistle in Ehyme. 

To the Eev. John Nev^^ton. 
My very Dear Friend : 
I am going to send, what when you have read, you may scratch your 
head, and say, I suppose, there 's nobody knows, whether what I have 
got be verse or not. 

The news at Oney is little or noney, but such as it is, I send it, viz. : 
Page and his wife, that made such a strife, we met them twain in 
Dog-lane ; we gave them the wall, and that was all. For Mr. Scott, we 
have seen him not, except as he pass'd, in a wonderful haste, to see a 
friend in Silver End. Mrs. Jones proposes, ere July closes, that she 
and her sister, and her Jones mister, and we that are here, our course 
shall steer, to dine in the Spinney;* but for a guinea, if the weather 
should hold, so hot and so cold, we had better by far, stay where we are. 
For the grass there grows, while nobody mows (which is very wrong), 
so rank and long, that so to speak, 'tis at least a week, if it happens to 
rain, ere it dries again. 



* A grove, belonging to Mrs. Throckmorton, of Weston, and about a mile from 
Olney. 



SYLLABUS. 



271 



I have writ Charity, not for popularity, but as well as I could, in hopes 
to do good ; and if the Eeviewer should say, " To be sure, the gentle- 
man's Muse wears Methodist shoes ; you may know by her pace, and 
talk about grace, that she and her bard have little regard, for the taste 
and fashions, and ruling passions, and hoidening play, of the modern 
day ; and though she assume a borrowed plume, and here and there 
wear a tittering air, 't is only her plan, to catch if she can, the giddy 
and gay, as they go that way, by a production on a new construction. 
She has baited her trap in hopes to snap all that may come, with a 
sugar-plum." 

His opinion in this, will not be amiss ; 't is what I intend, my 

principal end ; and if I succeed, and folks should read, till a few are 
brought to a serious thought, I shall think I am paid, for all I have said 
and all I have done, though I have run, many a time, after a rhyme, as 
far as from hence, to the end of my sense, and by hook or crook, write 
another book, if I live and am here another year. I have heard before, 
of a room with a floor, laid upon springs, and such-like things, with so 
much art, in every part, that when you went in, you was forced to begin 
a minuet pace, with an air and a grace, swimming about, now in and 
now out, with a deal of state, in a figure of eight, without pipe or string, 
or any such thing ; and now I have writ, in a rhyming fit, what will 
make you dance, and as you advance, will keep you still, though against 
your will, dancing away, alert and gay, till you come to an end of what 
I have penn'd ; which that you may do, ere madam and you are quite 
worn out with jigging about, I take my leave, and here you receive a 
bow profound, down to the ground, from your humble me,* W. C. 
July 12, 1781. 

Syllabus. 

The eighteenth century may be divided into three periods, represented 
by Pope, Johnson, and Burns. 

Burns, by his spontaneous song, inaugurated a new order of poetry, — the 
natural school. 

Burns, like Chaucer, was intensely human. 

His chief poems are, The Cotter'' s Saturday Night, Tarn G'Shanter, Holy 
Willie's Prayer, Address to the Deil, Address to a Mountain Daisy, To a 



* Cowper, in one of his letters, complained to Mr. Newton of the wanderings of his 
mind; his friend acknowledged a similar weakness. "Yes," replied the poet ; " but 
you have always a serious thought standing at the door, like a justice of the peace, 
with the riot-act in his hand, ready to disperse the mob." 



272 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Mouse, To the Toothache ; his heroic poem, Bannockburn, and A Man's 
a Man. 

Among his best songs are those addressed to Highland Mary, Bonny 
Doon, Sweet Afton, My Heart's in the Highlands. 

Auld Lang Syne and Comin' thro' me Rye are adaptations of old Scotch 
songs. 

Burns was born at Ayr, in Ayrshire, and died at Dumfries, at the age 
of thirty-six. 

Cowper, like Burns, was natural and simple in his style. 
Both were unconscious of the great benefit they were rendering litera- 
ture. 

In character, no greater contrasts could be given. 
Cowper was fond of quiet scenes and quiet life. 
He was refined in every sentiment and expression. 

Cowper's chief poems are The Task, John Gilpin, etc. His Letters afibrd 
the happiest illustrations of the use of good English, 
Mrs. Unwin was Cowper's honored friend and care-taker. 
Cowper died in 1800. 




\ 



SCOTT. 



CHAPTER XI. 
The Nineteenth Century. 

The Age of Scott and Byron. 

1800-1832. 

REVOLUTIO^^'S marked the close of the last century,— 
revolutions in government, in society, and in literature, 
and the spirit of progress it av^akened gathered new strength 
as the nineteenth century dawned. The American and French 
revolutions had kindled a love of liberty that not even the 
Reign of Terror could extinguish, i^apoleon Bonaparte, from 
his First Consulship, in 1799, to his final overthrow, in 1815, 
was the one central figure engaging the attention of the world. 
His triumphs ended at Waterloo, and England was left secure 
in her ancient prowess. But other troubles ensued. The wars 
with America and France had left the kingdom burdened with 
an enormous debt and with heavy taxations. JSTew inventions 
in machinery, it is true, had given a new impulse to manufac- 
tures, and, by dignifying labor, was breaking down the barriers 
of caste ; but the product of English industry overstocked and 
flooded the markets of the world. The supply so greatly ex- 
ceeded the demand that the manufactories and mills were 
brought to a sudden stand-still, and the working-classes re- 
duced to want and sufiering. The heavy wars had raised the 
price of breadstuff's, and the landholders in Parliament kept 
the prices up to starvation-point by refusing to admit into the 
kingdom the products of other countries. Opposition and riots 
grew common in the manufacturing districts. 

S - 273 



274 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The long-continued denial of rights of citizenship to Catho- 
lics was a remnant of the original Test Act, requiring conform- 
ity to the Anglican Church as the first qualification for holding 
office or voting.* George HI., rigidly adhering to the vow that 
caused his family to become rulers of England, could not dis- 
criminate between the rights of Catholics as citizens and their 
rights as rulers. 

George III. died in 1820, after a reign of sixty years. During 
the last ten years of his life he was hopelessly insane, and his 
son, afterwards George lY., acted as regent. This prince was 
as dissolute in his habits, and regardless of the dignity of his 
trust, as Charles II. It was with great apprehension that his 
subjects saw him crowned king of England. 

The literature of the nineteenth century greets us with the 
freshness and spontaneity of earnest conviction. Burns had 
struck the rock from which the fresh fountain gushed forth ; 
Cowper, with his simple utterances,had testified to deep truths ; 
and last, but not least, the influence of the old Ballad literature 
collected by Dr. Percy, and known to all lovers of literature as 
" Percy's Eeliques," had given a wide-spread taste for simple, 
spontaneous poetry. These ballads, the expression of earnest, 
genuine sentiment, though rude in structure, aided the nine- 
teenth century in the conviction that spontaneity, rather than 
decorum, was the essential of poetry. f 



* In the minds of many of the most earnest people of the realm there had long 
been a desire for the removal of political disabilities from Catholic subjects, and the 
bestowal upon them of privileges hitherto denied. Daniel O'Connell, an Irish pa- 
triot, was especially active in his demands for Catholic emancipation. The clear- 
sighted wisdom and large-hearted statesmanship of Pitt demanded it, and, undis- 
mayed by the King's opposition to his measures, to the end of his life Pitt pursued 
his humane endeavors to obtain Catholic suffrage. He died in 1806. The Catholic 
Emancipation Act was passed in 1829. In conjunction with Wilberforce, Pitt labored, 
also, for the abolition of the slave-trade. To this humane project the life and energy 
of William Wilberforce were devoted. In 1787 he, with Thomas Clai-kson, Granville 
Sharp, and ten others, " formed a committee to promote the suppression of the slave- 
trade." It had been decided in 1772, after many and bitter oppositions, that the 
moment a slave set his foot on English soil he was a free man. Cowper, in 1784, had 
said: 

"Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs 
Receive our air, that moment they are free." 
f ItisdiflBcult to divide the nineteenth century writers according to periods, as, for 
instance, Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey had all of them distinguished them- 
selves somewhat before 1800, but became more prominent in the world of letters 



THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 



275 



On no one of the nineteenth century poets did Percy's Kel- 
iques exercise more, or probably so much, influence as upon 
the boy Walter Scott (1771-1832), who, as he lay on the 
banks of the Tweed, used to read these old legendary poems, 
which filled his young imagination with ruined castles and 
abbeys, knights and fair ladies, no less than with notions of 
honor and loyalty. Thus, living in the realm of imagination, 
and in ages long past, the great revolutions in which he was 
actually living and moving had comparatively little effect upon 
him. Loving, as he did, the chivalry of past ages and aristoc- 
racy of all time, and honoring the traditional glory of kings, 
the "levelling doctrines" of the French Kevolution were es- 
pecially odious to him. He would have made a stout Jacobite 
in the days of Jacobitism. Yet, partial as he was to kings, we 
find him just when he describes actual party strifes. 

He was born in Edinburgh in 1771. His family belonged to 
the border clan of Scott, whose chieftain was the Duke of Buc- 
cleugh. Being % delicate child, he was sent to the country, 
and, roaming the fields on his grandfather's farm near Kelso, 
on the Tweed, he found books in nature more essential to his 
after-work than all his subsequent training at Edinburgh. He 
never made much proficiency in the classics, and left the Uni- 
versity without taking a degree. He studied law under his 
father, but soon left it for literature. 

His first publication was The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border^ 
a collection similar to Percy's, with many original ballads. 
His next publication, 1805, was. The Lay of the Last Minstrel. 
Marmion^ The Lady of the Lake^ The Vision of Don Boderick^ 
Bokehy, The Bridal of Triermain., Tlie Lord of the Isles., and 
Harold the Dauntless followed in rapid succession. 

Scott soon found that a more powerful singer* than himself 
was enchanting all listening ears ; so, with marked good sense 
and rare magnanimity, he stepped aside to welcome "the fuller 
minstrel in." He at once turned his active mind and pen into 
another channel, and produced in rapid succession his un- 
equalled novels. Nine years before, he had sketched the story 



later— after the death of Byron, Shelley, and Keats, who, all three, died before 1825. 
Wordsworth lived until 1850. 
* Byrou. 



276 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



of Waverley, which now became the initial number of that series 
which has delighted the world under the title of The Waverley 
Novels. They were anonymously published, and the author was 
called the "Great Unknown," "The Wizard of the North," etc. 
Following Waverley, came in rapid succession Guy Mannering, 
The Antiquary., The Black Dwarf Old Mortality, Heart of Mid- 
lothian, etc., etc., about thirty in number. They are mainly 
historical novels, and give very nearly a correct picture of the 
times they represent. The Monastery and The Abbot are con- 
cerning Mary Queen of Scotts ; Kenilworth gives a fair picture 
of Elizabeth's times ; The Fortunes of Nigel gives the reign of 
James I. ; Woodstock, the Civil War and the Commonwealth ; 
Peveril of the Peak, the reign of Charles II. ; Waverley, the period 
of the Pretender's attempt to secure the throne in 1745 ; while 
Ivanhoe, The Talisman, and Count Eobert of Paris are concern- 
ing the Crusaders. 

With Scott's regard for aristocracy and heraldic honors, it is 
not astonishing that his great ambition was to possess a large 
landed estate and a title. The first he procured in 1811. No 
associations in Scotland were more pleasing to him than those 
in which he formed his first conceptions of ancient glory, and 
peopled his busy fancy with knights and dwarfs of times gone 
by. So on the banks of his favorite Tweed, near the ruins of 
Melrose Abbey, he purchased his estate, and gave it the name 
of Abbotsford. Here his happy family sprang up around him, 
and here in 1820 he received from George IV. the coveted title 
of baronet. No greater instance of pecuniary success was ever 
recorded than that of Scott's, and no greater instance of pecu- 
niary failure. The great publishing firm of Ballantyne & Co., 
in which Scott had a heavy interest, failed, involving Sco^t to 
the amount of more than a hundred thousand pounds.* 

Without a word of weak and vain repining, he left his splen- 



* Except Milton's self-imposed labor and sacrifice, no grander example in the 
history of literature can be found than that of Scott as we now see him,— risen 
almost to the summit of his worldly ambition, and suddenly dashed to the lowest 
earth,— not to grovel in despair, but to summon all the courage of a great heart to 
begin again the toilsome journey, "It is very hard," he said, " thus to lose all the 
labor of a lifetime, and be made a poor man at last, when I ought to have been other- 
wise; but if God gives me health and strength for a few years longer, I have no 
doubt that I shall redeem it all." 



THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 



277 



did home at Abbotsford, where, in princely hospitality, he had 
entertained princes and potentates, and securing a humble 
abode in Edinburgh, shut himself up from the genial world he 
loved, to labor with his tireless pen until the heavy debt of 
half a million should be paid off. Woodstock was the first-fruit 
of this period of his history. Story, biography, and history 
followed, until at last, just as the goal was nearly reached, the 
pen dropped from his nerveless fingers. He was prevailed 
upon to take a foreign tour, and he resided for several months 
in Naples. He was taken to his beloved Abbotsford to die. 
"He desired," says his son-in-law and biographer, Lockhart, 
"to be wheeled through his rooms, and we moved him leisurely 
for an hour or more up and down the hall and the great library. 
'I have seen much,' he kept saying, 'but nothing like my 
ain house : give me one turn more.' " He died on the 21st of 
September, 1832, and was buried in Dryburgh Abbey. 

The trio of poets next to be mentioned, Byron, Shelley, 
and Keats, were associated in life, but had few points of re- 
semblance in character. The poetry of each has a striking 
individuality. Byron's is chaotic, impassioned, full of sublime 
energy. He is more at home in storms and warring elements 
than in quiet, peaceful scenes. His life was one series of revolt, 
and his poems reflect his life. Shelley, a higher, more spir- 
itual poet, represents all that is rarest and most exquisite in 
the realms of the imagination. He is the Ariel of poets. His 
own Skylark, soaring " higher still and higher," best embodies 
his own spiritual elevation. 

Keats, with Miltonic tread, giving promise of the greatest 
possibilities had life been spared him, was more purely sensu- 
ous. While with Shelley all is ethereal, and the spirit is lifted 
into the pure realms of ideaUty, and there is a spiritual per- 
ception only, with Keats the perception of the spiritual is 
through the senses mainly, or as if the senses were taken cap- 
tive by the intellect and made to contribute to the intellectual 
pleasure. 

The diversity of these three poets makes it of interest to study 
them together, united as they were by the ties of friendship. 

George Gordon Byron (1788-1824) was born in London. 
A sensitive, passionate, wayward, generous child, what he 
24 



278 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



might have been if his early training had been different, it 
is idle to conjecture. His father was a worthless, dissipated 
spendthrift, and his mother, with a temper uncontrolled, — 
passionate in love or anger, — would sometimes heap endear- 
ments upon her little lame boy, and at other times would call 
him a "lame brat," and in her rage throw at his head what- 
ever missile came nearest to her hand. What wonder, with 
su€h an infancy, his whole life should be turbulent.* 

In his eleventh year a grand-uncle died, and left George Gor- 
don Byron heir to his title and estates, with the grand old 
baronial residence of ISTewstead Abbey. f With a new future 
opened to him, he was sent to Harrow School to prepare for 
Cambridge. After two years spent at Trinity College, Cam- 
bridge, he published a collection of his poems, entitled Hours 
of Idleness. These were harshly criticised in the Edinburgh 
Keview, and from that event dates Byron's entrance into the 
field of literature. To this criticism he replied in a powerful 
satire, called English Bards and Scotch Beviewers. All the rage, 
hatred, and animosity of his bitter nature were here expressed. 
None of his brother poets — the English bards — but received the 
lash of his satire, whether they were friends or foes. But the 
Scottish reviewers were the especial objects of his invective and 
scorn. 

Soon after the publication of this satire, Byron took his seat 
in the House of Lords. He did not remain long in Parliament, 
but went travelling on the Continent. The classic lands of 
Greece invited his wandering footsteps. Here he recalled all 
her ancient grandeur as he bewailed her fallen state : 

" 'T is Greece, but living Greece no more ! 
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, 
We start, — for soul is wanting there. 
Hers is the loveliness of death. 
That parts not quite with parting breath, 



* Deserted by her husband, who had squandered all her fortune, the unhappy 
mother of Byron went with her child back to her native country, Scotland, and 
there in Aberdeenshire placed the boy at a village school. 

t It is told that when his name was called at school with the title for the first time 
prefixed, he was so overcome he could not answer the customary adsum, but after a 
painful silence burst into tears. 



THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BTRON. 



279 



But beauty with that fearful bloom, 
That hue which haunts it to the tomb." 

Then bursting from these strains of pity, he changes into 
grander notes of patriotism : 

Clime of the unforgotten brave ! 
Whose land from plain to mountain-cave 
Was freedom's home or glory's grave ! 
Shrine of the mighty ! Can it be 
That this is all remains of thee ? 

Approach, thou craven, crouching slave, 

Say, is not this Thermopylae ? 
These waters blue that round you lave, 

Oh, servile offspring of the free. 
Pronounce, what sea, what shore is this? 
The gulf, the rock of Salamis ! " 

After two years' absence, he returned with two cantos of 
Childe Harold completed. These were published in 1812, and 
were received with such rapturous applause that he instantly 
became the popular poet of the day and the lion of London 
society. As he briefly expressed it in his diary, 1 awoke one 
morning and found myself famous." Between 1813 and 1816 
he wrote The Giaour, The Bride of Ahydos, The Corsair, Lara, 
The Siege of Corinth, and Parisina. 

Byron married a Miss Milbanke, from whom he separated 
in a year's time. They had one child — Augusta Ada. Again 
Byron quitted his native shores, and these are some of his sad 
and bitter feelings : 

"And now I'm in the world alone, 

Upon the wide, wide sea ; 
But why should I for others groan. 

When none will sigh for me? 
* ^- ^ * 

With thee, my bark, I '11 swiftly go 

Athwart the foaming brine ; 
Nor care what land thou bear'st me to, 

So not again to mine." 

Pie went to Flanders, then along the Rhine to Switzerland, 
and, imbibing on his journey all the grandeur of that scenery. 



280 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



he produced the next year, while still in Switzerland, the third 
canto of Gfiilde Harold, also The Prisoner of Chillon, Darkness, 
The Dream* and a portion of Manfred. 

After a year spent in Switzerland he went to Italy, and 
there fell into every vice and excess. Here he wrote Mazeppa, 
parts of Don Juan, and the tragedies of Marino Faliero, Sar- 
danapalus, The Two Foscari, Werner, Gain. 

In 1823 he enlisted, with all the vigor of his wasted life, in 
the cause of the Greeks, who were striving to throw off the 
Turkish yoke. He arrived at Missolonghi in January, 1824, 
prepared to give to the oppressed nation what aid his fortune 
and influence might wield, but was seized with a fever, and 
died in April, 1824, like Burns, in his thirty-seventh year. 

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) was born at Field 
Place, near Horsham, in Sussex. At thirteen he was sent to 
Eton to prepare for Oxford. In his eighteenth year he entered 
Oxford, but for writing a pamphlet on Atheism, which was 
rather a challenge to discussion than an avowal of confirmed 
atheism, he was expelled. But even if it had been the latter, 
the " confirmed " opinions of a youth of eighteen are very likely 
to undergo a change, and had Shelley been treated in a kindly, 
Christian manner, his opinions would not have been likely to 
contaminate the University. He was not only formally expelled 
from college, but prohibited by his father from returning home. 

His first poem was Queen Mob, which was an attack on the 
existing forms of religion. He married a girl in humble life, 
and for a time seemed happy ; but after three years they 
separated, t and soon after he married the daughter of Mary 
WoLLSTONCRAFT (1756-1836) and William Godwin (1759- 
1797), both of whom had acquired a literary fame. With his 
wife he travelled in Switzerland, and met with Lord Byron. J 

* The Dream is an embodiment of one passage of his early life— his ardent, unre- 
ciprocated love for Mary Chaworth. If that dream "might have been " realized, it 
seems, indeed, as if the restless, self-tortured soul might have found life worth living. 

t On hearing of the unhappy death of his first wife, Shelley's remorse was so great 
that he was for a time almost insane. He claimed his children after her death, but 
was refused by the Court of Chancery ; Lord Chancellor Eldon deciding against him 
on the ground that one who held such atheistic doctrines as Shelley was unfit to 
have charge of the education of his own children. 

X One stormy evening the three were sitting round the fire in the parlor of one of 



THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 



281 



In 1818 Shelley took up his residence in Italy, where he con- 
tinued on intimate terms with Byron, Keats, and Leigh Hunt, 
and other English men of letters who at that time were resid- 
ing in Italy. He was passionately fond of boating, and on the 
8th of July, 1822, he started with a friend from Leghorn to his 
home on the Bay of Spezzia. A violent squall upset the frail 
boat, and Shelley was drowned. Two hours afterwards his 
body was washed ashore. The quarantine laws there requiring 
that all bodies washed ashore should be burnt, Shelley's friends, 
Byron, Leigh Hunt, and Trelawney, attended the sad funeral 
rites, and buried his ashes in the Protestant cemetery'at Rome, 
where Keats had been buried the year before. 

Shelley's chief works are Alastor^ or The Spirit of Solitude., 
Tlie Bevolt of Islam., Hellas., The Witch of Atlas, Epipsychidion, 
and 'Rosalind and Helen. These are all invectives against re- 
ligion and social institutions. Shelley also wrote two important 
dramas, Prometheus Unbound" and The Genci. The latter is 
founded on the parricidal crime of the beautiful Beatrice Cenci. 
Shelley is best known by his shorter poems, especially The Sky- 
lark, The Cloud, and The Sensitive Plant. His poem of Adonais 
is a lament for the early death of Keats. 

Of the life of JoHisr Keats (1796-1821) there is little to be 
told. He was born in London, early began to write poetry, and 
published Endymion, his longest poem, in 1818. It was severely 
criticised by the Quarterly Review, and Keats, unlike Byron, 
could only suffer for, not oppose, the ill opinion of the critics. 
He passed into a decline, from which he never rallied. To re- 
cover his health he travelled to Italy, but died in Eome in 1821, 
in the twenty-fourth year of his age. Besides his chief poem, 
Endymion, he wrote Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and 
Hyperion. In the judicious words of a late critic, 

the STviss inns, when it was proposed that each should try which could write the 
most ghastly story. They retired to their tasks, and, when the stories were pro- 
duced, it was decided that Mrs. Shelley(1798-1851) had met the required conditions. 
Hers was the story of Frankenstein. 

*" Prometheus bound to the rock represents Humanity sulfering under the reign 
of Evil impersonated in Jupiter. Asia, at the beginning of the drama separated 
from Prometheus, is the all-pervading love, which in loving makes the universe of 
nature. The time comes when Evil is overthrown. Prometheus is then delivered 
and united to Asia, that is, Man is wedded to the spirit of Nature, and Good is all in 
all. The fourth act is the choral song of the regenerated universe." 

24* 



282 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



" Endymion has ,all the faults and all the promise of a great poet's 
early work, and no one knew its faults better than Keats, whose preface 
is a model of just self-judgment. Hyperion, a fragment of a tale of the 
overthrow of the Titans, is itself like a Titanic torso, and in it the faults 
of Endymion are repaired and its promise fulfilled," 

In the extract quoted from Hyperion, "- there is a solemn gran- 
deur and a stately cadence in the measured flow of the verse : 

" Deep in the shady sadness of a vale, 
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, 
Far from the fiery noon and eve's one star, 
Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone." 

For the statuesque and stone-like Saturn the reader at once 
feels a human sympathy, and for the Titanic "goddess of the 
infant world," who is equally human. None but a poet con- 
fident of his power would have dared to embody a conception 
of female grace in such vast proportions. Yet how grand and 
harmonious the result. 

Keats, unlike Shelley, was little affected by the spirit of his 
own times. The sources of Keats's inspiration were ideals of 
perfect beauty, and for these he turned to ancient Greece and 
mediaeval times. 

Thomas Moore (1779-1852), the Irish song-writer, was es- 
sentially a lyric poet, and his songs are well termed Melodies. 
Melodious versification and vivid, gorgeous description consti- 
tute the excellence of his poetry. It touches the heart as 
strains of music, but there is little deep sentiment. He best 
describes it himself when he says, 

" Mine is the lay that lightly floats, 
And mine are the murmuring, dying notes 
That fall as soft as snow on the sea. 
And melt in the heart as instantly; 
And the passionate strain that, deeply going, 

Kefines the bosom it trembles through. 
As the musk-wind, over the water blowing. 
Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it, too." 
His principal poem is Lalla EooJch^f which consists of four sep- 

* Page 300, 

f Lalla Rookh (Tulip Cheek) is the beautiful daughter of the Emperor Aurengzebi, 
who reigned at Delhi, India, She has been betrothed to a prince whom she has never 



THE Age of scott and byron. 



283 



arate poems, The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan^ Paradise and the 
Peri, The Fire- Worshipper and The Light of the Harem. 

The order of Moore's works is as follows : In 1800 appeared 
his translation of the Odes of Anacreon. These were followed 
by miscellaneous poems, under the title of The Poetical Works 
of the late " Thomas Little.''^ In 1806 he visited America, and, 
returning to England, published Epistles, Odes, and other Poems. 
Later, his Intercepted Letters, or The Two-penny Post Bag, by 
" Thomas Brown the Younger,'''' were published, and these were 
shortly followed by The Fudge Family in Paris and Fables for 
the Holy Alliance, all satires, and ephemeral in character. His 
Melodies, on the other hand, are enduring ; and his Last Rose of 
Summer, The Harp that once through Tara's Hall, The Minstrel 
Boy, Lovers Young Dream, etc., the world of song will not soon 
let die. In 1823 his Loves of the Angels was published, which 
was also an Eastern story. The most of his works after this 
date were in prose. In 1825 appeared his Life of Sheridan, and 
in 1830 his Life of Byron. 

Another poet, contemporary alike with Dr. Johnson and with Byron, 
was George Crabbe (1754-1832), "the poet of the poor." His poems 
are The Library, The Village, The Parish Register, The Borough, Tales in 
Verse, and Tales of the Hall. He was a clergyman, and the latter part 
of his life lived at the rectory of Trowbridge. 

Other minor poets of this time were Robert Bloomfield (1766- 
1823), author of The Farmer's Boy; Reginald Heber (1783-1826), 
whose beautiful Hymns are favorites in all denominations of churches ; 
Robert Pollok (1799-1827), author of The Course of Time, a poem 
in ten books, describing man's spiritual life and destiny. Pollok died 
at the early age of twenty-seven, Henry Kirke White (1785-1806) 
was another youthful genius, who, like Pollok, was a martyr to severe 
and serious study. After publishing some sonnets and odes, he died at 
the age of twenty-one. Mary Tighe (1774-1810) wrote a poem called 

seen, and when the poem opens, is just setting out on her journey to Cashmere, where 
the marriage is to be solemnized. A suitable retinue is in attendance, and on the 
way a minstrel, or poet, joins the company, who beguiles the tedium of the journey 
by reciting, in hearing of the princess, the four stories or poems just named. On 
arriving at their journey's end the poet discovers himself to her as the prince whom 
she is to marry. Of this poem Hazlitt said, " If Lalla Rookh be not a great poem, it 
is a marvellous work of art, and contains paintings of local scenery and manners 
unsurpassed for fidelity and picturesque eifect. The poet was a diligent student, and 
his oriental reading was as good as riding on the back of a camel." 



284 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Psyche. Mrs. Barbauld (1743-1825), contemporary also with Dr. 
Johnson, wrote Hymns in Prose for Children and Essays. 

Hannah More (1745-1833), also a friend of Dr. Johnson, likewise 
of Cowper, lived until 1833. Her first- works were dramatic, and after- 
wards of a religious and moral character. Her dramas were The Search 
after Happiness, The Inflexible Captive, Percy, and The Fatal Falsehood. 
In 1786 her poem on the Slave Trade was published. The Shepherd of 
Salisbury Plain is one of a series of tales, and Coelebs in Search of a Wife 
was a very popular novel. Her last writings were Moral Essays and 
Beflections. 

Scottish Poets. 

The Scotch poets of this early part of the nineteenth century- 
are especially worthy of notice. Robert Tan^sTAHill, James 
Hogg, Allan Cunningham, William Motherwell, all 
belong to the "full-throated" minstrelsy of Scotland, and in 
some of their productions are not inferior to Burns himself. 

The best-kuown songs of Robert Tannahill (1774-1810) 
are The Braes o' Balquhiilier., The Braes o' Gleniffer, Gloomy 
Winter 's noo Awa, and Jessie.^ the Flower o' Dumhlane. 

James Hogg (1770-1835), better known by the more euphoni- 
ous name of the " Ettrick Shepherd," belonged to the peasantry 
of Scotland. He was what his poetical name suggested, — a 
shepherd of Ettrick dale. Poetry was his passion, and some 
of his songs are unsurpassed. For rhythmic beauty and soar- 
ing motion his Skylark is unparalleled. When the Kye cor)ies 
Hame is another of his popular songs. His crowning endeavor, 
however, was The Queen'' s Wake., which consists of a collection 
of ballads and legends supposed to be sung to Mary Queen of 
Scots by Scottish bards at a royal wake at Holywood. The 
most popular of these is the fairy story of Bonny Kilmeny, one 
of the most harmonious and exquisite poems in the language. 

Allan Cunningham (1784-1842), when a child, lived near neigh- 
bor to Burns, and recalled, as a never-to-be.-forgotten event, the poet's 
recital of Tam O'Shanter. He was afterwards one of the numerous 
biographers of Burns. Cunningham's best-known poems are. My Nan- 
nie 0, The Poet's Bridal-day Song, and A Wet Sheet and Flowing Sea. 

William Motherwell (1797-1835) wrote Jeannie Morrison, The 
Midnight Wind, and the weird, strange Sword Chant of Thorstein Raudi. 

One of the sweetest of Scotch songs, The Land o' the Leal, was written 



NO VELISTS. 



285 



by the Baroness Nairne (1766-1845), originally Caroline Oli- 
PHANT. She also wrote Caller Herrin, The Lord o' Cockpen, and The 
Lass o' Gowrie. 

The Drama. 

Many of the poets of this time were dramatists also, but 
their dramas must be regarded as poems rather than plays ; 
their character was of too high an order to render them pleas- 
ing to the ordinary taste. But the popular dramatic art was 
not wanting, and among the successful dramatists of this time 
was George Colman (1762-1836), " the Younger," * who filled 
the stage with innumerable stock plays, principal of which were 
The Iron Chest, The Heir at Law, and the Poor Gentleman. Col- 
man wrote also many poems of broadest humor. The Newcas- 
tle Apothecary and Lodgings for Single Gentlemen were published 
in a collection of humorous poems entitled Broad Grins. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Inchbald (1753-1821) was a successful dramatist 
and novelist of the time, and her own life as full of romance as many 
of her heroines upon the stage. The most celebrated play of Joanna 
Baillie (1762-1850) was De Montjort. 

Novelists. 

When Sir Walter Scott turned from poetry to novel writing, 
he is said to have been haunted with the fear that in that de- 
partment he would be surpassed by Miss Edgeworth. 

Maria Edgeworth (1767-1849) was one of the most popu- 
lar writers of the early part of the nineteenth century. She is 
now mainly remembered by her stories for the young, Early 
Lessons, Bosaraond, Harriet and Lucy, Waste Not, Want Not, 
Simple Susan, j etc. 

Miss Edgeworth's first literary performance was a humorous 
Essay on Lrish Bidls, written in conjunction with her father, 
KiCHARD LovELL Edgeworth (1744-1817). Most of her 



* In deference to his father's memory, he added to his name the epithet " The 
Younger," not wishing, he said, that posterity should suppose the author of the 
" Jealous Wife " and the translator of Terence to be guilty of having written the 
Iron Chest. 

t Her novels of society and tales of fashionable life were immensely popular, and 
there was some foundation for Scott's apprehensions. 



286 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



life was spent in Ireland, where her father removed when she 
was young. 

The age was prolific in lady novelists. Jane Austen (1775-1817) 
wrote /Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, and several other novels 
of less note.* The two sisters Anna Maria and Jane Porter were 
likewise great favorites with Scott. The former wrote more than fifty- 
novels. The sister, Jane Porter (1776-1850), wrote two which are 
popular in the present day,— Thaddeus of Warsaiv and The Scottish Chiefs. 
The best-known work of Mrs. Anne Radcliffe (1764-1823) is the 
Mysteries of Udolpho. William Beckford's (1760-1844) popularity 
rests on his wonderful Arabian tale, Vathek. Henry Mackenzie (1745 
-1831) was a Scotch novelist, known by his Man of Feeling, a popular 
novel in Burns's day. William Godwin (1756-1833) was novelist, 
political economist, and biographer. Of his numerous novels, Caleb 
Williams was most powerfully written, Matthew Gregory Lewis 
(1775-1818), oftener called " Monk Lewis," wrote a wild romance called 
The Monk. 

It is curious and interesting to observe the number of novelists of this 
time, besides Sir Walter Scott and Miss Edgeworth, representing the 
humble life of the Scotch and Irish. Principal among them were John 
Gibson Lockhart,! the son-in-law of Scott, and John Wilson,^ en- 
deared to all readers by his Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life. John 
Galt (1779-1839), Elizabeth Hamilton (1758-1816), and Miss 
Ferrier (1782-1854), also gave quaint and touching delineations of 
Scottish life, while Lady Morgan (1783-1859) portrayed in animated 
sketches the national manners of Ireland. 

Other novelists were the sisters Sophia and Harriet Lee (1750- 
1824), (1756-1851), Mrs. Opie (1771-1853), Miss Mitford,^ and 
Theodore Edward Hook (1788-1842), one of the most prolific 
writers of the time. Madame D'Arblay (1752-1840) (the sprightly 
Frances Burney of Dr. Johnson's day, and one of the "Blue Stocking" 
lights) was still living. Her Evelina and Cecelia had been published 
even before Burns became famous. 



* After reading Pride and Prejudice for the third time, Sir Walter Scott said of 
Miss Austen, "That young lady had a talent for describing the involvements, and 
feelings, and characters of early life, which is to me the most wonderful I ever have 
met with. The big bow-ivow strain I can do myself; but the exquisite touch which 
renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting from the truth of 
the description and the sentiment, is denied me. What a pity such a gifted creature 
died so early." 

t See page 320, % See page 320. g See page 319. 



THEOLOGIANS. 



287 



Philosophical Writers. 

The names of Dugald Stewart (1753-1828) and Sir James 
MACKmTOSH (1765-1832) stand prominent among the meta- 
physical writers of this time. Both were Scotchmen, and both 
were in Edinburgh during Burns 's first visit in that metropolis. 
Metaphysical subjects have largely engaged the Scottish mind. 
Dr. Thomas Brown (1778-1820;, a pupil and afterwards col- 
league of Dugald Stewart in the Edinburgh University, was a 
prominent Scotch metaphysician. His fame rests chiefly on his 
Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind. 

The department of political economy is represented by Jer- 
emy Bentham (1748-1832), Robert Malthus (1766-1834), 
David Ricardo (1772-1823], and James Mill (1773-1836). 

In physical science Sir Humphrey Davy (1778-1829) ranks 
as one of the greatest chemists and discoverers of the age, and 
Sir William Herschel (1738-1822; as an astronomer. 

Theologians. 

Among theological writers and pulpit orators of this time 
were Robert Hall^ (1764-1831), one of the greatest pulpit 
orators of his day ; Thomas Chalmers (1780-1847), a Scotch 
Presbyterian, who seceded from the Established Church of 
Scotland with the more liberal party of Dissenters, and Ed- 
ward Irving (1792-1834), at one time an assistant of Dr. 
Chalmers. He rose to great distinction in the Scottish Church, 
and as rapidly declined in popularity, owing to his supposed 
unorthodox opinions. "I come to tell you God loves you," 
was the gospel Irving carried with him to every scene of sor- 
row, and even to every haunt of vice. Adam Clarke, LL.D. 
(1760-1832) is best known as a commentator on the Bible. He 
was a profound scholar, and, besides his Commentary^ he pub- 



* Of his eloquence, Dr. Parr, himself a clergymaa, and one of the greatest schol- 
ars in England, says : " Mr. Hall, like Bishop Taylor, has the eloquence of an orator, 
the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, 
and the piety of a saint." Of the perfections of his writings, Dugald Stewart said : 
"There is a living writer who combines the beauties of Johnson, Addison, and Burke 
without their imperfections. It is a dissenting minister of Cambridge, the Rev. 
Robert Hall. Whoever wishes to see the English language in its perfection must 
read his writings." 



288 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



lished a Bibliographical Dictionary. He was an eminent min- 
ister in the Methodist Church.* 

History and Biography. 

Many historical works of interest were added to the Utera- 
ture of this period. 

The History of Greece from the Earliest Period, by William Mitford 
(1744-1827), was one of the most important works in this department. 
He, however, viewed his subject from an aristocratic standpoint, and 
hence is unfair in his views of the "barbarisms of Democratic government.'^ 

Dr. John Lingard (1771-1850) published, in 1819, A History of 
England. Being a priest in the Roman Catholic Church, he views some 
of the important subjects of history from that standpoint. He also 
wrote a learned work on the Antiquity of the Anglo-Saxon Church. 

Sharon Turner (1768-1847) wrote a series of works on English 
History, — the first and most important is the History of the Anglo-Saxons. 
Patrick Frazer Tytler (1791-1849), of Edinburgh, wrote a History 
of Scotland. A History of the War in the Peninsula and in the South of 
France (1807 to 1814), by Sir W. F. P. Napier (1785-1860), is con- 
sidered one of the most valuable histories of the war waged by England 
against France and Napoleon. 

Writers distinguished in other fields of literature also produced works 
on history and biography. Sir James Mackintosh and James Mill, 
besides their more strictly philosophical works, wrote some historical 
works of value. The former wrote a History of England and a Life of 
Sir Thomas More. James Mill wrote a History of British India, said to 
be the best work on that subject. 

Although in minuteness and accuracy of detail no biographies arose 
equal to Boswell's, of the century just passed, there were some great bi- 
ographies written during this time. Among the most important were 
Southey's Life of Nelson, and Moore's Life of Sheridan.f The poet 
Campbell's best biographical works were the short sketches of lives in 
his Specimens of British Poetry. Sir Walter Scott wrote a life of 
Napoleon Bonaparte, a work of nine volumes. William Roscoe (1753- 
1831) wrote valuable lives of Lorenzo de Medici and Leo X. 

* Thomas Scott, D. D. (1747-1821) had published his Commentary on the Bible some 
years before, but it was a work of less erudition than that of Clarke's. 

f Of the latter, the Edinburgh Eeview says : " It exhibits the clearest and most 
intelligent account of all the great questions which were agitated during that mo- 
mentous period." 



PERIODICAL LITERATURE. 



289 



Periodical Literature. 

The middle and latter part of the eighteenth century had 
produced two or three critical reviews and several magazines, 
which held their place in literature until the beginning of the 
nineteenth century, when another critical review sprang int6 
existence, which cast the others wholly in the shade. 

This was the Edinburgh Eeview, whose establishment marked 
an era not only in periodical literature and criticism, but in the 
history of human progress. It originated in 1802, among a knot 
of young men assembled in the humble rooms of one who was 
afterwards to take the chief part in conducting the Keview. 
This was Francis Jeffrey, who had just been admitted to 
the Scotch bar, and had, even at this early date, displayed 
great ability as an advocate. This coterie of youthful critics 
consisted of Sydney Smith, Francis Jeffrey, Dr. Thomas Brown, 
Lord Murray, Dr. John Thomson, Francis Horner, and Lord 
Brougham.* 

Sydney Smith (1771-1845), to whom is attributed the first 
suggestion of the Keview, thus describes the inception of the 
scheme. He, then a young curate, had set out with a friend for 
the University of Weimar, but Germany becoming the seat of 
war, "in stress of politics," he says, 

" We put into Edinburgh, where I remained five years. The princi- 
ples of the French Kevolution were then fully afloat, and it is impossible 
to conceive a more violent and agitated state of society. Among the 
first persons with whom I became acquainted were Lord Jeffrey, Lord 
Murray (late Lord Advocate for Scotland), and Lord Brougham ; all of 
them maintaining opinions upon political subjects a little too liberal for 
the dynasty of Dundas, then exercising supreme power over tlie northern 
division of the island. 

" One day we happened to meet in the eighth or ninth storyf or flat 
in Buccleugh Place, the elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey. I 
proposed that we should set up a Keview ; this was acceded to with ac- 
clamation. I was appointed editor, and remained long enough in Edin- 
burgh to edit the first number of the Edinburgh - Review. The motto I 
proposed for the Keview was, 

* The latter but twenty-five years of age, and then simply Henry Brougham. 
fThe Tiouses in the part of Edinburgh called the old town were some of them 
built ten and eleven stories high. 

25 T 



290 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



' Tenui musam meditamur avend.' 
'We cultivate literature upon a little oatmeal.' 

But this was too near the truth to be admitted, and so we took our 
present grave motto * from Puhlius Syrus, of whom none of us had, I 
am sure, ever read a single line , and so began what has since turned 
out to be a very important and able journal. When I left Edinburgh, 
it fell into the stronger hands of Lord Jeffrey and Lord Brougham, and 
reached the highest point of popularity and success. I contributed from 
England many articles, which I have been foolish enough to collect and 
publish with some other tracts written by me. 

"To appreciate the value of the Edinburgh Keview, the state of 
England at the period when that journal began should be had in re- 
membrance. The Catholics were not emancipated, the Corporation and 
Test Acts were unrepealed, the game laws were horribly oppressive, steel 
traps and spring guns were set all over the country, prisoners tried for 
their lives could have no counsel, Lord Eldon and the Court of Chan- 
cery pressed heavily upon mankind, libel was punished by the most cruel 
and vindictive imprisonments, the principles of political economy were 
little understood, the law of debt and of conspiracy was upon the worst 
possible footing, the enormous wickedness of the slave-trade was toler- 
ated — a thousand evils were in existence which the talents of good and 
able men have since lessened or removed ; and these effects have been 
not a little assisted by the Edinburgh Review." 

Francis Jeffrey (1773-1850) v^as the leading spirit of the 
enterprise, and after the first tw^o numbers, which were edited 
by Sydney Smith, he edited the Review for nearly twenty-seven 
years. This Review became the powerful organ of the Whig 
party, and the repository of the products of the best minds of 
the time. But its literary censorship, severe, because unripe, 
caused bitterness of feeling to many young literary aspirants. 
Poor Byron could ill brook its treatment of his first published 
work, Hours of Idleness^ and he turned with venom upon all 
English bards and Scotch revieivers. With riper years Jeffrey 
became more mellow in his criticisms. He, the leader of crit- 
ics, learned that the province of criticism was wide ; and, as 
from year to year the varied productions of gifted minds came 
under his critical examination, he could not but be conscious 



* Judex damnatur, cum nocens absolvitur,— TAe judge is condemned when the 
guilty is acquitted. 



PERIODICAL LITERATURE. 



291 



of receiving benefits which deepened and broadened his own 
narrower vision. 

So great was the influence of the Edinburgh Eeview in dis- 
seminating Whig principles, that in 1809, at the instigation of 
Sir Walter Scott and others, the London Quarterly Beview was 
established, to counteract the Whig influence and to represent 
the Tory or ministerial party. The editorship was undertaken 
by William Gifford (1757-1826), a painstaking, unrelenting 
critic, unfitted by nature for the broad, humane art of criti- 
cism."^ His attacks upon those who possessed more liberal sen- 
timents than his own were personal and gross, as he could not 
divorce his political antagonisms from his literary criticisms. 
Leigh Hunt and Hazlitt were objects of his severe attacks. 
Poor Keats came under his coarse censure, and Shelley like- 
wise ; the satiric author of the Baviad f being wholly unfitted 
to appreciate the refined, poetic genius of either of these young 
poets. The Quarterly Review became in Giffbrd's hands a 
powerful Tory organ and an excellent literary journal, having 
the same fields of literature from which to cull as the Edin- 
burgh Review, and, likewise, having for its contributors leading 
authors and statesmen. 

In 1824 the Radical party established the Westmiyister Beview, 
under the editorship of Jeremy Bentham, a scholarly re- 
cluse, singular in his modes of living and original in his modes 
of thinkingt. 

Other Reviews are the North British Beview, established in 
1844 ; the British Quarterly Beview, in 1845, and the New Quar- 
terly Beview, 1852. § 

The early part of this century saw as great an improvement in mag- 

* " He regarded authors," said Southey, " as a fishmonger regards eels, or as Izaak 
Walton did worms, slugs, and frogs." 

fThe Baviad, by Gifford, was a satirical poem, ridiculing the " Delia Cruscans."* 

X He based his principles of legislation on " the greatest happiness to the greatest 
number." " Priestley," says he, " was the first who taught my lips to pronounce this 
sacred truth. In this phrase I saw delineated, for the first time, a plain as well as a 
true standard for whatever is right or wrong, useful, useless, or mischievous in hu- 
man conduct, whether in the field of morals or of politics." 

§ Reviews are usually published quarterly, yet some, as the Saturday Review, are 
now published weekly. 

* See p. 346. 



292 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



azines as in reviews. " The Gentleman's Magazine," started by Cave in 
1731, to which Dr. Johnson had contributed, was still a popular peri- 
odical ; but the appearance of Blackwood's Magazine in 1817 overshad- 
owed it as completely as the Edinburgh Eeview had overshadowed the old 
''Monthly" and "Critical Eeviews." It was published in Edinburgh 
by William Blackwood, and received contributions from Scott, Lockhart, 
Hogg, Wordsworth, Coleridge, De Quincey, and Lamb. It was edited 
by Professor Wilson, whose influence in literature was most benign. 
The New Monthly was established in 1814, and edited successively by 
Campbell, Hood, Bulwer Lytton, and Ainsworth. Following the New 
Monthly and Blackwood's came Fraser's, 1830 ; Dublin University Mag- 
azine, 1832 ; MacMillan's, 1859 ; Cornhill, 1859, edited by Thackeray ; 
Temple Bar, 1860, by George Augustus Sala; and, still later, Good 
Words, by Norman Macleod, a Scottish divine. 

The weekly magazines were inaugurated in 1832 by the Penny Maga- 
zine and Chambers's Journal. In 1850 Dickens issued the first number 
of Household Words, and in 1859 All the Year Bound. Once a Week was 
issued the same year. 

A demand for cheap literature caused the publication of many com- 
pendiums of works, compiled under the attractive titles of Family Li- 
brary, Library of Entertaining Knowledge, etc."^ 

In 1832 those benefactors of the literary world, the brothers William 

(1800 ) and Egbert Chambers (1802-1871) commenced their 

weekly periodical entitled Chambers's Journal. It consisted of original 
papers on subjects of ordinary life, science, and literature, each number 
containing a quantity of matter equal to the works issued by the Society 
for the Diffusion of Knowledge, and sold at one-fourth the price. 

The first encyclopedia of any great value was published in London, 
in 1728, by Ephraim Chambers. In 1785 the same work was enlarged 
by Dr. Abraham Eees. But it is to the brothers William and Egbert 
Chambers, who have made accessible to all classes the vast stores of 

*The active mind of Mr. Constable, the great Edinburgh publisher, about the time 
of his failure, had planned the publication of abridged works to be issued monthly 
in cheap forms, that "every decent house in Britain might afford a good library." 
With this view he issued Constable's Miscellany. It was not until after this series 
was started that the London publisher, Murray, began to issue the Family library. 
The Sacred Classics were reprints of religious works abridged, and published every 
month. In 1825 a society was formed for the diffusion of useful knowledge, by the 
publication of a series of treatises on science and various branches of knowledge. 
As their condensed form rendered them too technical and the whole matter was too 
abstruse for the masses, another series was issued more successfully, entitled the Li- 
brary of Entertaining Knowledge. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 293 



human knowledge, that the reading world is indebted. After the suc- 
cessful publication of the Journal, they issued other popular works — 
Information for the People, Papers for the People, Chambers's Miscelkmy, 
Chambers's Encyclopedia for the People, Chambers's Encyclopedia of Eng- 
lish Literature, and that curious and most interesting compilation, The 
Book of Days. 

Illustrations of the Literature of the Age of Seott 
and Byron. 

^>©4o<^ 

SIB WALTER SOOTT. 

From The Lay of the Last Minstrel. 

Introduction. 

The way was long, the wind was cold, 

The minstrel was infirm and old ; 

His withered cheek and tresses gray 

Seemed to have known a better day; 

The harp, his sole remaining joy, 

Was carried by an orphan boy. 

The last of all the bards was he 

Who sung of Border chivalry ; 

For, well-a-day ! their date was fled ; 

His tuneful brethren all were dead ; 

And he, neglected and oppressed. 

Wished to be with them, and at rest. 

No more on prancing palfry borne, 

He carolled, light as lark at morn ; 

No longer courted and caressed, 

High placed in hall a welcome guest. 

He poured to lord and lady gay 

The unpremeditated lay : 

Old times were changed, old manners gone; 

A stranger filled the Stuart's throne ; 

The bigots of the iron time 

Had called his harmless art a crime. 

A wandering harper, scorned and poor, 

He begged his bread from door to door, 

And tuned, to please a peasant's ear. 

The harp a king had loved to hear. 

25* 



294 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



* * * « -Sf * 
If thou would' st view fair Melrose aright, 
Go visit it by the pale moonlight; 

For the gay beams of lightsome day 

Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. 

When the broken arches are black in night, 

And each shafted oriel glimmers white; 

When the cold light's uncertain shower 

Streams on the ruined central tower; 

When buttress and buttress, alternately, 

Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; 

When silver edges the imagery, 

And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die; 

When distant Tweed is heard to rave. 

And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave. 

Then go — ^but go alone the while — 

Then view St. David's ruined pile; 

And, home returning, soothly swear, 

Was never scene so sad and fair ! — Canto II., Stanza 1, 

* ^ * * * ^• 
Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said. 

This is my own, my native land ! 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turned 

From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
If such there breathe, go mark him well; 
For him no minstrel raptures swell; 
High though his titles, proud his name. 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentred all in self. 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown. 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust from whence he sprung. 
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. — Canto VI., Stanza 1. 

From The Monastery. 

It was about this period that the " only rare poet of his time, the 
witty, comical, facetiously-quick, and quickly-facetious John Lyly, — 
he that sat at Apollo's table, and to whom Phoebus gave a wreath of his 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 295 



own bays without snatching " * — he, in short, who wrote that singularly 
coxcombical work called " Euphues and his England," was in the very 
zenith of his absurdity and reputation. The quaint, forced, and unnat- 
ural style which he introduced by his "Anatomy of Wit,"- had a fashion 
as rapid as it was momentary. All the court ladies were his scholars, 
and to iparler Eapkuisme was as necessary a qualification to a courtly 
gallant, as those of understanding how to use his rapier or to dance a 
measure. ^ * * -;r * 

" Credit me, fairest lady," said the knight, " that such is the cunning 
of our English courtiers of the hodiernal strain, that, as they have infi- 
nitely refined upon the plain and rustical discourse of our fathers, which, 
as I may say, more beseemed the mouths of country roysterers in a May- 
game than that of courtly gallants in a galliard, so I hold it inefiTably 
and unutterably impossible, that those who may succeed us in this gar- 
den of wit and courtesy shalLalter or amend it. Venus delighted but 
in the language of Mercury, Bucephalus will stoop to no one but Alex- 
ander, none can sound Apollo's pipe but Orpheus." 

" Valiant sir," said Mary, who could scarcely help laughing, "we have 
but to rejoice in the chance which hath honored this solitude with a glimpse 
of the sun of courtesy, though it rather blinds than enlightens us." 

"Pretty and quaint, fairest lady," answered the Euphuist. "Ah! 
that I had with me my Anatomy of Wit— that all-to-be-unparalleled 
volume — the quintessence of human wit — that treasury of quaint inven- 
tion — that exquisitely-pleasant-to-read and inevitably-necessary-to-be- 
remembered manual of all that is worthy to be known — which indoc- 
trines the rude in civility, the dull in intellectuality, the heavy in jocos- 
ity, the blunt in gentility, the vulgar in nobility, and all of them in that 
unutterable perfection of human utterance, that eloquence which no 
other eloquence is sufficient to praise, the art which, when we call it by 
its own name of Euphuism, we bestow upon it its richest panegyric." 

" Marvellous fine words," said dame Glendinning. " Marvellous fine 
words, neighbor Happer, are they not ? " 

" Trust me," said the knight, again turning to Mary Avenel, " if I do 
not pity you, lady, who, being of noble blood, are thus in a manner com- 
pelled to abide in the cottage of the ignorant, like the precious stone in 
the head of a toad, or like a precious garland on the brow of an ass." 

"Credit me, fair lady," said Sir Piercie Shafton, addressing Mary 
Avenel, " it much rejoiceth me, being as I am a banished man from the 
delights of my own country, that I shall find here, in this obscure and 

* Blount, editor of Lyly's Works. 



296 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



sylvan cottage of the north, a fair form and a candid soul, with whom I 
may explain my mutual sentiments. And let me pray you in particular, 
lovely lady, that, according to the universal custom now predominant in 
our court, the garden of superior wits, you will exchange with me some 
epithet whereby you may mark my devotion to your service. Be hence- 
forth named, for example, my Protection, and let me be your Affability." 

" Our northern and country manners. Sir Knight, do not permit us to 
exchange epithets with those to whom we are strangers," replied Mary 
Avenel. 

" Nay, but see now," said the knight. " how you are startled ! even as 
the unbroken steed which swerves aside from the shaking of a handker- 
chief, though he must, in time, encounter the waving of a pennon. This 
courtly exchange of epithets of honor is no more than the compliments 
which pass between Valor and Beauty, wherever they meet, and under 
whatever circumstances. Elizabeth of England herself calls Philip 
Sidney her Courage, and he in return calls that princess his Inspiration." 

LORD BYRON. 

From Childe Harold. 

There was a sound of revelry by night ; 

And Belgium's capital had gathered then 
Her beauty and her chivalry ; and bright 

The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; 
A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when 
Music arose with its voluptuous swell, 

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again. 
And all went merry as a marriage bell — 
But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell. 

Canto III., Stanza 21, 
* -Jf * * -x- * * 

The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh, night, 

And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 

Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among. 

Leaps the live thunder ! not from one lone cloud, 
But every mountain now hath found a tongue. 
And .Jura answers, through her misty shroud. 
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 

Canto TIL, Stanza 92. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 297 



The Niobe of nations ! * there she stands 

Childless and crownless, in her voiceless wo, 
An empty urn within her wither'd hands, 

Whose holy dust was scatter'd long ago ; 
The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now; 

The very sepulchres lie tenantless 
Of their heroic dwellers: dost thou flow, 

Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? 

Erise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress. 

Canto IV., Stanza 79. 
* * * * -x- 

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! 

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 
Man marks the earth with ruin — his control 

Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain 
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain. 

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan — 
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. 

Canto IV., Stanza 179. 

From ^JLiNES to his Wife after their Separation. 

Fare thee well ! and if for ever. 

Still for ever, fare thee well : 
Even though unforgiving, never 

'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. 
Would that breast were bared before thee 

Where thy head so oft hath lain, 
While that placid sleep came o'er thee. 

Which thou ne'er canst know again . 
Would that breast, by thee glanced over, 

Every inmost thought could show. 
Then thou wouldst at last discover 

'T was not well to spurn it so. 

To Ada. 

My daughter ! with thy name this song begun. 

My daughter ! with thy name this much shall end — 
I see thee not, — I hear thee not, — but none 

* Rome. 



298 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Can be so wrapt in thee ; thou art the friend 
To whom the shadows of far years extend : 

Albeit my brow thou never should' st behold, 
My voice shall with thy future visions blend, 

And reach into thy heart, — when mine is cold, 
A token and a tone, even from thy father's mould. 

To aid thy mind's development, — to watch 

Thy dawn of little joys, — to sit and see 
Almost thy very growth — to view thee catch 

Knowledge of objects, — wonders yet to thee! 

To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee. 
And print on thy soft cheek a parent's kiss. 

This, it should seem, was not reserved for me : 
Yet this was in my nature :— as it is, 
I know not what is there, yet something like to this. 

SHELLEY. 

■ From the Ode to A Skylark. 

Hail to thee, blithe spirit ! 

Bird thou never wert. 
That from heaven, or near it, 
Pourest thy full heart 
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. 

Higher still, and higher, 

From the earth thou springest 
Like a cloud of fire; 
The blue deep thou wingest, 
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever, singest. 
* * -x- * * * -x- 

We look before and after, 

And pine for what is not : 
Our sincerest laughter 

With some pain is fraught: 
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 

Yet if we could scorn 

Hate, and pride, and fear ; 
If we were things born 

Not to shed a tear, 
I know not how thy joy we ever could come near. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 299 



Better than all measures 
Of delight and sound, 
Better than all treasures 
That in books are found, 
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! 

Teach me half the gladness 
That thy brain must know, 

: Such harmonious madness 

From my lips would flow. 

The world should listen then, as I am listening now. 

From The Sensitive Plant. 

A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew, 
And the young winds fed it with silver dew. 
And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light. 
And closed them beneath the kisses of night. 

And the spring arose on the garden fair. 
Like the spirit of love felt everywhere ; 
And each flower and herb on earth's dark breast 
Eose from the dreams of its wintry rest. 

But none ever trembled and panted with bliss 
In the garden, the field, or the wilderness, 
Like a doe in the noontide with love's sweet want, 
As the companionless Sensitive Plant, 

The snow-drop, and then the violet, 
Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, 
And their breath was mixed with fresh odor, sent 
From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. 

Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall. 
And narcissi, the fairest among them all. 
Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess. 
Till they die of their own dear loveliness ; 

And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, 
Whom youth makes so fair, and passion so pale. 
That the light of its tremulous bells is seen 
Through their pavilions of tender green ; 

And the hyacinth purple, and white, and blue. 
Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew 



300 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Of music so delicate, soft, and inten'se, 
It was felt like an odor within the sense. 

KEATS. 

From Hyperion. 

[Saturn and Thea.] 

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale, 

Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, 

Far from the fiery noon and eve's one star, 

Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone, 

Still as the silence round about his lair; 

Forest on forest hung about his head 

Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, 

Not so much life as on a summer's day 

Robs one light seed from the feathered grass, 

But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest. 

A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more 

By reason of his fallen divinity 

Spreading a shade : the Naiad 'mid her reeds 

Pressed her cold finger closer to her lips. 

Along the margin sand large footmarks went 
No further than to where his feet had strayed, 
And slept there since. Upon the sodden ground 
His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, 
Unsceptred ; and his realmless eyes were closed ; 
While his bowed head seemed listening to the earth, 
His ancient mother, for some comfort yet. 

It seemed no force could wake him from his place ; 
But there came one, who with a kindred hand 
Touched his wide shoulders, after bending low 
With reverence, though to one who knew it not. 
She was a goddess of the infant world ; 
By her in stature the tall Amazon 
Had stood a pigmy's height : she would have ta'en 
Achilles by the hair, and bent his neck ; 
Or with a finger stayed Ixion's wheel. 
Her f&ce was large as that of Memphian sphinx, 
Pedestalled haply in a palace court, 
When sages looked to Egypt for their lore. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 801 



From Ode to a KiGHTmGALE. 

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains 

My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, 
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains 

One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 
'T is not through envy of thy happy lot 
But being too happy in thy happiness, 
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, 
In some melodious plot 
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, 
Singest of summer in full-throated ease. 

From Address to Autumn. 

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun, 
Conspiring with him how to load and bless 

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; 
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, 

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; 
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells 

With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more. 
And still more, later flowers for the bees. 
Until they think warm days will never cease, 

For summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells. 

From Endymion. 

A thing of beauty is a joy forever ; 
Its loveliness increases ; it will never 
Pass into nothingness. 

Sonnet. 

[On First Looking into Chapman's Homer.] 

Much have I travelled in the realms of gold, 
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen ; 
Eound. many western islands have I been 

Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. 

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told 

That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne: 
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene 

Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: 

26 



302 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Then felt I like some watcher of the skies 
When a new planet swims into his ken ; 

Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes 
He stared at the Pacific — and all his men 

Looked at each other with a wild surmise — 
Silent, upon a peak in Darien. 

JAMES HOGG— The " Ettrick Shepherd." 

Erom The Queen's Wake. 

Bonny Kilmeny. 

Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen ; 

But it wasna to meet Duneira's men, 

Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see. 

For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. 

It was only to hear the yorlin sing, 

And pu' the cress-flower round the spring ; 

The scarlet hypp and the hindberrye. 

And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree ; 

For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. 

But lang may her minny look o'er the wa', 

And lang may she seek i' the greenwood shaw ; 

Lang the laird of Duneira blame. 

And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame ! 

When many a day had come and fled, 
When grief grew calm, and hope was dead, 
When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung. 
When the beadsman had prayed, and the dead-bell rung, 
Late, late in a gloamin, when all was still, 
When the fringe was red on the western hill, 
The wood was sere, the moon i' the wane. 
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain 
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane ; 
When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme. 
Late, late in the gloamin, Kilmeny came hame ! 

"Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been? 
Lang hae we sought baith holt and 'dean ; 
By linn, by ford, and greenwood tree. 
Yet you are halesome and fair to see. 
Where gat ye that joup o' the lily sheen ? 
That bonny snood of the birk sae green ? 



LITERATURE OF TEE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 303 



And these roses, the fairest that ever were seen ? 
Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been ? " 

Kilmeny looked up with a lovely grace, 
But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny' s face ; 
As still was her look, and as still was her ee, 
As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea, 
Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea. 
For Kilmeny had been she knew not where, 
And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare ; 
Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew. 
Where tlie rain never fell, and the wind never blew. 
But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung. 
And the airs of heaven played round her tongue. 
And she spake of the lovely forms she had seen, 
And a land where sin had never been. 

From The Skylark. 

Bird of the wilderness. 

Blithesome and cumberless, 
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea ! 

Emblem of happiness, 

Blest is thy dwelling-place — 
O to abide in the desert with thee ! 

Wild is thy lay and loud, 

Far in the downy cloud, 
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. 

Where, on thy dewy wing. 

Where art thou journeying? 
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. 

O'er fell and fountain sheen. 

O'er moor and mountain green. 
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day. 

Over the cloudlet dim, 

Over the rainbow's rim. 
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! 

Then, when the gloaming comes. 

Low in the heather blooms, 
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! 

Emblem of happiness, 

Blest is thy dwelling-place — 
O to abide in the desert with thee ! 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



From When the Kye comes Hame, 

Come, all ye jolly shepherds 

That whistle through the glen, 
I'll tell ye of a secret 

That courtiers dinna ken. 
What is the greatest bliss 

That the tongue o' man can name ? 
'T is to woo a bonnie lassie 
When the kye comes hame. 
When the kye comes hame, 

When the kye comes hame, 
'Tween the gloamin and the mirk. 
When the kye comes hame. 

'T is not beneath the coronet, 

Nor canopy of state, 
'Tis not on couch of velvet. 

Nor arbor of the great — 
'T is beneath the spreading birk. 

In the glen without the name, 
Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie 

When the kye comes hame. 

There the blackbird builds her nest 

For the mate he lo'es to see. 
And on the topmost bough 

Oh a happy bird is he ! 
Then he pours his melting ditty. 

And love is a' the theme. 
And he '11 woo his bonnie lassie 

When the kye comes hame. 

When the blewart bears a pearl. 

And the daisy turns a pea. 
And the bonnie lucken gowan 

Has fauldit up her ee. 
Then the lavrock frae the blue lift, 

Draps down, and thinks nae shame 
To woo his bonnie lassie 

When the kye comes hame. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF SCOTT AND BYRON. 



ROBERT TANNAHILL. 

From The Braes o' Balquhither. 

Let us go, lassie, go. 

To the braes o' Balquhither, 
Where the blae-berries grow 

'Mang the bonnie Highland heather; 
Where the deer and the roe, 

Lightly bounding together, 
Sport the lang summer day 

On the braes o' Balquhither. 

I will twine thee a bower 

By the clear siller fountain, 
And I'll cover it o'er 

Wi' the flowers of the mountain; 
I will range through the wilds, 

And the deep glens sae drearie, 
And return wi' the spoils 

To the bower o' my dearie. 

When the rude wintry win' 

Idly waves round our dwelling, 
And the roar of the linn 

On the night breeze is swelling, 
So merrily we'll sing. 

As the storm rattles o'er us, 
Till the dear shieling ring 

Wi' the light lilting chorus. 

NoAV the summer's in prime 

Wi' the flowers richly blooming, 
And the wild mountain thyme 

A' the moorlands perfuming; 
To our dear native scenes 

Let us journey together. 
Where glad innocence reigns 

'Mang the braes o' Balquhither. 

From The Braes o' Glekiffeb. 

Keen blaws the win' o'er the braes o' Gleniffer, 
The auld castle turrets are covered with snaw ; 
26^ U 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



How changed frae the time when I met wi' my lover 
Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw ! 

The wild flowers o' summer were spread a' sae bonnie, 
The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree; 

But far to the camp they hae marched my dear Johnnie, 
And now it is winter wi' nature and me. 

From The Flower o' Dumblane. 

The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Benlomond, 

And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene, 
While lanely I stray in the calm summer gloamin. 

To muse on sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane. 
How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft fauldin' blossom! 

And sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o' green; 
Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom, 

Is lovely young Jessie, the flower o' Dumblane. 

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 

From The Poet's Bridal-Day Som. 

O! my love's like the steadfast sun, 

Or streams that deepen as they run; 

Nor hoary hairs, nor forty years, 

Nor moments between sighs and tears — 

Nor nights of thought, nor days of pain, 

Nor dreams of glory dreamed in vain — 

Nor mirth, nor sweetest song which flows 

To sober joys and soften woes, 

Can make my heart or fancy flee 

One moment, my sweet wife, from thee. 

Even while I muse, I see thee sit 

In maiden bloom and matron wit — 

Fair, gentle as when first I sued, 

Ye seem, but of sedater mood ; 

Yet my heart leaps as fond for thee 

As when, beneath Arbigland tree. 

We strayed and wooed, and thought the moon 

Set on the sea an hour too soon; 

Or lingered 'mid the falling dew. 

When looks were fond and words were few. 



SYLLABUS. 



307 



REV. ROBEBT HALL. 

On Wisdom. 

Every other quality besides is subordinate and inferior to wisdom, in 
the same sense as the mason who lays the bricks and stones in a build- 
ing is inferior to the architect who drew the plan and superintends the 
work. The former executes only what the latter contrives and directs. 
Now, it is the prerogative of wisdom to preside over every inferior 
principle, to regulate the exercise of every power, and limit the indul- 
gence of every appetite, as shall best conduce to one great end. It being 
the province of wisdom to preside, it sits as umpire on every difficulty, 
and so gives the final direction and control to all the powers of our 
nature. Hence it is entitled to be considered as the top and summit of 
perfection. It belongs to wisdom to determine when to act, and when 
to cease — when to reveal, and when to conceal a matter — when to speak, 
and when to keep silence — when to give, and when to receive ; in short, 
to regulate the measure of all things, as well as to determine the end, 
and provide the means of obtaining the end pursued in every deliberate 
course of action. Every particular faculty or skill, besides, needs to 
derive direction from this ; they are all quite incapable of directing them- 
selves. 



Syllabus. 

Napoleon Bonaparte, from 1799 to 1815, was engaging the attention of 
the world. 

The wars with America and France had left Great Britain burdened 
with debt. 

The poor were grievously oppressed. 

Catholics were denied the rights of citizens. 

Daniel O'Connel, aided by Pitt, demanded Catholic franchise. 

William Wilberforce, Thomas Clarkson, and Granville Sharpe were 
pioneers in the abolition of the slave-trade. 

George III. died in 1820, after a reign of sixty years. He was succeeded 
by his son George IV. 

The influence of Burns, Cowper, and of Percy's Reliques was felt in the 
literature of the early part of the nineteenth century. 

Byron, Shelley, and Keats all died before 1825. 

Sir Walter Scott was a Eoyalist — a lover of crowned heads and aris- 
tocracy ; but he was just to all. 



808 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Scott's first publication was his Border Ballads. 

His next, — his longer poems, The Lay of the Last Minstrel, 3Iarmion, 
Lady of the Lake, etc. 

Believing Byron to be a superior poet to himself, he directed his creative 
genius to novel writing. 

His first novel was Waverley, which was succeeded by others ; the whole 
series — twenty-nine in all — were called the Waverley Novels. 

The author was called the " Great Unknown." 

Scott called his manor Abbotsford. 

He was knighted in 1820 by George IV. 

In 1825 the firm of Ballantyne & Co. failed. Scott was involved to the 
amount of half a million dollars. 

By his tireless pen he paid off that enormous debt in five years. He 
died in 1832. 

Byron, Shelley, and Keats were associated in life. Their characters and 
poetry were wholly difierent. 

Byron was chaotic. The ocean and storms were his elements. 

Byron's first publication was Hours of Idleness. It was severely criti- 
cised by the Edinburgh Review. His next poem was a satire in reply to 
the critics, entitled English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. 

Soon after this Byron took his seat in the House of Lords. 

He soon after travelled on the Continent. 

After two years spent abroad, he returned to England with two cantos 
of Childe Harold. 
These were published in 1812. 

In 1815 he married Miss Milbanke. In one year they separated. 
They had one child, Augusta Ada. 
Byron again left England. 

The third canto of Childe Harold was written in Switzerland ; also, The 
Prisoner of Chillon, Darkness, and The Dream. 
Tlie Dream is a history of his early life. 

From Switzerland he went to Italy. Here he wrote Mazeppa, part of 
Don Juan, and several tragedies. 

In 1823 he went in aid of the Greeks, but died at Missolonghi a few 
months after, in April, 1824. 

Shelley's poetry represents all that is most spiritual. 

For writing a pamphlet while at Oxford, entitled The Necessity of Ai.'.e- 
ism, he was expelled from the University. He was but sixteen years old 
at the time. 

His first poem was Queen Mah. 

Shelley's chief poems are Alastor, The Revolt of Islam, Hellas, The 
Witch of Atlas, Prometheus Unboicnd, The Cenci, The Skylark, The Cloud, 
The Sensitive Plant. 

Shelley was drowned in the Bay of Spezzia, Italy. 

Mrs. Shelley wrote the story of Frankenstein. 



SYLLABUS. 



309 



Keats's poetry combines the purest sensuous pleasures with the intel- 
lectual. 

His chief poem, Endymion, was severely criticised by the Quarterly 
Review. 

Some of his other works are Hyperion, Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. 
Agnes. 

Keats died at Eome, in his 24th year. 

Thomas Moore is best known by his Irish Melodies. 

Lalla Rookh is his principal poem. 

George Crabbe was the poet of the poor. 

Other poets of this time were Robert Bloomfield, Reginald Heber, Mary 
Tighe, Robert Pollok, Henry Kirke White. 

The Scotch poets were Robert Tannahill, James Hogg (the " Ettrick 
Shepherd"), Allan Cunningham, and William Motherwell. 

The principal dramatists of the time were George Colman "the younger," 
Mrs. Inchbald, Joanna Baillie. 

The novelists of the age were Sir Walter Scott, Miss Edgeworth, Jane 
Austen, Jane Porter, Anne Radcliflfe, Henry Mackenzie, William Beck- 
ford, William Godwin. 

Scotch novelists, besides Sir Walter Scott, were Lockhart, Prof. John 
Wilson ("Christopher North"), John Gait, Miss Ferrier, etc. 

Philosophical writers were Dugald Stewart, James Mackintosh, Thomas 
Brown. 

Writers on political economy were Bentham, Malthus, Ricardo, and 
James Mill. 

Writers on physical science were Sir Humphrey Davy and Sir William 
Herschel. 

Theology was represented by Robert Hall, Thomas Chalmers, Edward 
Irving, Adam Clarke. 

History by Wm. Mitford, Lingard, Sharon Turner, Tytler, Napier, etc. 

The Edinburgh Review was started in 1802 by Sydney Smith, Francis 
Jeffrey, and others. It was a Whig organ. 

The London QufLrterly Review was started in the interest of the Tory 
party, 1809. It was edited by William Gifford. 

The Westminster Review was started by the Radical party in 1824. 
Jeremy Bentham was chief editor. 

The monthly magazines began to spring into existence in the early part 
of the nineteenth century. 

Blackwood's llagazine was started in 1817 by William Blackwood. 

Weekly magazines were started in 1832. Of these Dickens's Household 
Words and All the Year Round have been most poj)ular. 

The literary world owes a debt of gratitude to the brothers William and 
Robert Chambers for their indefatigable labors in procuring and furnish- 
ing popular information. 



WORDSWORTH. 



CHAPTER XII. 
THE LAKE Poets. 

Wordsworth, Coleridge, and 

SOUTHEY. 
1832—1850, 

GEOKGE lY. died in 1830, and was succeeded by his 
brother, WiUiam lY. During his short reign of seven 
years, important measures of government were begun. In 1832 
the great Keform in Parliament was carried by King and Com- 
mons against the Lords. The next year slavery was abolished 
throughout the British Colonies, and in the same year the first 
public grant was made in behalf of public schools. In Eng- 
land, America, and France, the spirit of universal freedom was 
awakened. 

Among the most ardent upholders of the French Revolu- 
tion in its earlier stages were the three young poets Words- 
worth, Coleridge, and Southey. Without tracing the 
devious path which led to the final overthrow of all their 
political and religious convictions, it may be briefly stated that 
the three, starting in life as the most ultra radicals in politics 
and religion, ended their lives as the upholders of kings and 
supporters of the Church of England. They were the poets 
of humanity, and, following Burns, Cowper, and Crabbe in the 
natural school of poetic art, insisted on a still wider deviation 
from the artificial school. 

Attracted by the beautiful scenery of Westmoreland and 
Cumberland, one after the other of these poets took up his 

310 



THE LAKE POETS. 



311 



residence among the lakes of north-western England, and from 
this fact they have always been known as the "Lake Poets." 

William Wordsworth (1770-1850), the chief of this school 
of poets, was born in Cumberland. He received his education 
at Cambridge, travelled on the Continent, and was in France 
at the beginning of the Revolution of 1791. Returning to 
England, he devoted his time to literary pursuits, and ap- 
peared as a poet in 1793. Soon after he met Coleridge, and 
the two became life-long friends. In 1797 their joint produc- 
tion of Lyrical Ballads was published.* 

To bring the art of poetry back to nature, Wordsworth con- 
tended that the ordinary topics of daily life were fit subjects 
for poetry, and that the language should be that "really used 
by men." Eor this deviation from all preconceived ideas of 
propriety in poetic diction, he received showers of ridicule and 
censure; yet, undismayed, he held on his course, and, after 
fifty years of patient waiting, was recognized as the first poet 
of his age. 

There are golden veins of poetry running throughout every- 
thing he has written, gleaming here and there in genuine col- 
ors, then again obscured, as he meant they should be, in the 
russet of common, every-day expression. In his Ode to Immor- 
tality there is the grand ^olian melody, the perfection of hu- 
man utterance.! 

In the poet's mind there was a natural order and sequence 
in the arrangement of his poems, typical of the development 
of his spiritual powers. The Excursion^ his principal poem, 
was intended a^ a second part to a longer poem to be entitled 
TJie Recluse. The first part— T/ie PreZwcZe— records " the origin 
and progress of his own powers." The second part — The Ex- 
cursion — deals with passing events and existing circumstances, 
and, being completed first, was published as an independent 
poem. In the language of Wordsworth, the two hold the re- 
lationship to each other of "the ante-chapel to the body of a 
Gothic church." The smaller poems, as he says, are to be 



* To this Coleridge contributed his Ancient Mariner. 

t This poem Emerson designates as the "high-water mark of English thought of 
the nineteenth century." 



312 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



regarded as "little cells, oratories, and sepulchral recesses." 
The third part — The Jleduse—v^hioh was never finished, was to 
consist of meditations "On Man, on Nature, and on Human 
Life." 

The love of nature was with him a passion, and the influence 
of nature on man was a favorite subject. He says : 
" One impulse from a vernal wood 
May teach you more of man, 
Of moral evil and of good, 
Than all the sages can," 

None but a poet inspired by the utmost confidence in him- 
self would have risked such subjects as Wordsworth chose. 
Yet the sad music of humanity rings in minor tones through 
such poems as Tlie Idiot Boy^ notwithstanding the most pro- 
saic and inharmonious lines. The poet is triumphant in pro- 
ducing a vivid picture, and in calling out the truest, kindliest 
sympathy. 

Wordsworth brought back the Sonnet, which, since Milton's 
day, had fallen out of English poetry. 

The domestic life of the poet was unclouded and happy.* 
In 1802 he had married Mary Hutchinson, and till his death, 
in 1850, they lived in the quiet seclusion of Grasmere and Eydal 
Mount. All the lakes and mountains of that district seemed 
a portion of the great poet's existence. 

Wordsworth's principal poems are, Tlie Excursion, Hart-Leap 
Well, Yarrow Unvisited, Visited, and Revisited^ and Laodamia. 
The poems most read are. Ode on Immortality^ She was a Phan- 
tom of Delight, We are Seven, Buth, Lucy, etc. Those most ridi- 
culed were, Peter Bell, The Idiot Boy, Alice Fell, The Blind 
Highland Boy, etc. 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834) was two years 
younger than Wordsworth. With kindred sympathies in liter- 
ary tastes, they were wholly different types of men. Coleridge 
possessed a rare genius, but lacked "the reason firm, the tem- 
perate will." Incompleteness marked all his works, and his 
works were typical of his life. We probably obtain the truest 



* To his sister Dora, his constant companion, Wordsworth attributes some of the 
best influences of his life. 



THE LAKE POETS. 



313 



estimate of his life and genius from liis contemporaries rather 
than from later critics, who see only the fragmentary works 
of a great genius, and deplore the overthrow of a noble mind.* 

Like Dr. Johnson, Coleridge was great in his own day ; be- 
cause, like Dr. Johnson, the charm of his conversation won all 
who heard him. With Coleridge there was the added attrac- 
tion of melodious utterance, genial temper, and the mingling 
of poetic and philosophical argument. To hear him talk was 
in itself an education. It has often been regretted that Cole- 
ridge did not reserve his best thoughts for posterity, instead 
of lavishing them in the evanescent breath of conversation. 
But so long as he has given to us the perfected poems of The 
Ancient Mariner, Genevieve, The Hymn to Mont Blanc, the trans- 
lation of Schiller's Wallenstein, and the unfinished poem of 
Christahel, we will not covet the unrecorded eloquence which 
charmed his contemporaries. 

Although the two poets harmonized in their general views 
of poetry, Coleridge saw the fallacy of Wordsworth's theory 
concerning the use of ordinary diction in poetry, and argued 
"that philosophers, not clowns, are the authors of the best 
parts of language." The Lyrical Ballads, to which allusion 
has been made,t were partly composed by Coleridge, and it 
should also be remembered that Wordsworth suggested and 
wrote some few portions of The Ancient Mariner. t 

In company with Wordsworth, Coleridge went to Germany. 
The spirit of philosophic inquiry which he found here inter- 
ested Coleridge quite as much as the poetry, and these, inter- 
fused with his, poetic imaginings, produced those glowing 
conversations for which he was famed. Returning from Ger- 
many, Coleridge went to reside at Keswick, in Cumberland, 
near the home of Wordsworth. 

Among the visionary schemes of Coleridge was that of the 
Pantisocracy, which he, with his friends Southey and Lov- 

* He had become addicted to opium eating, which caused his ruin, 
t See page 311. 

X Singularly enough, although in their literary partnership Coleridge was to fur- 
nish the supernatural and highly imaginative, and Wordsworth was to give poetic 
significance to the common things of life, it was Wordsworth who suggested the kill- 
ing of the Albatross and the steering of the ship by the ghastly crew. 
27 



314 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



ELL, had planned. Young and ajdent, and inflamed with the 
desire to promote the welfare of mankind, these three enthusi- 
asts anticipated the later Fourierism, and thought to build up 
here in the New World a species of Utopia. They were going 
to settle on the banks of the Susquehanna, and found their 
ideal republic — their Pantisocracy, or all-equal government.'^ For 
want of means the Pantisocracy was given up. 

When we consider the rare poetic ability displayed in the 
"fragments" which have been left us, we can better conceive 
of the mental stature of Coleridge, and see that, with these 
works completed, he would have been by far the greatest poet 
of his age.f 

The prose works of Coleridge are, Lay Sermons, The Bio- 
graphia Literaria, The Friend, Aids to Eeflection, and The Con- 
stitution of the Church and State. These were published be- 
tween the years 1817 and 1825. His Table Talk and Literary 
Bemains were not published until after his death. 

No two characters present greater contrasts than those of 
Coleridge and Southey. The supine indolence of the one is 
met by the untiring industry of the other. Kobert Southey 
(1774-1843) will be longer remembered as a man, perhaps, than 
as a poet. His acquaintance with Coleridge began while both 
were students at Oxford. Both were in sympathy with the 
French Revolution, the overthrow of tyranny, and the estab- 
lishment of universal liberty. In support of this idea, Southey 
wrote his dramatic poem, Wat Tyler. 

Each of Southey 's long poems represents the national life 
of a people, or the chief incidents in the life of a nation's hero. 
Joan of Arc, a tale of France and England, was the first of his 
long poems. Madoc is the story of a Welsh hero ; The Curse of 
Kehama embodies the Hindoo ideas of religion ; Thalaha is a tale 



* The three young poets— Coleridge, Southey, and Lovell— married three sisters, 
the Misses Fricker. 

t Subject to great bodily suifering, he early resorted to the use of opium as a tem- 
porary relief from pain. But the pain and the habit both increased, until, a wreck 
in body and mind, he died in 1834. The last miserable years 5f his life were spent 
under the hospitable roof of his friend Dr. Oilman, of London, while to his brother- 
in-law, the poet Southey, residing at Keswick, he left the care of his family. To 
ignore these painful facts would be to withhold the just meed of praise to his 
generous friends. 



THE LAKE POETS. 



315 



of Arabia; Roderick., a Spanish and Moorish story. Southey 
had drawn most of liis poetic inspirations from Oriental liter- 
ature, and from the Moorish ballads of Spain.* ISTone of these 
long poems of Southey 's bear any evidence of his concurrence 
with the simple diction advocated by Wordsworth. It is only 
in his earlier, shorter poems that he chooses humble scenes and 
commonplace language, as in the Battle of Blenheim, Father Wil- 
liam, etc. The Abhot of AberhrothoTc contains some hnes quite 
similar to those of Coleridge in the Ancient Mariner. Southey 's 
muse was happier in rhymes than in poetic conception. His 
Cataract of Loclore and The March to Moscow are examples. 

Southey 's prose works are now more highly valued than his 
poetry. His biographies are especially admired. These are 
the lives of Nelson, Wesley, Coiojoer, and Henry Kirke White. 
Besides moral and political essays, he wrote Histories of the 
Peninsular War and of Brazil, and innumerable Letters. 

The literary works of Southey number one hundred and nine 
volumes, but his unceasing labors at length overtaxed his 
strength, and his brain succumbed to the too great pressure. 

His second wife, Caroline Anne Southey (1787-1854), was 
a sister of the poet Bowles, and was herself a writer of ability. 

To Thomas Hood (1798-1845) the sad world owes a debt of 
gratitude, not only for making it laugh, but for seeing its actual 
woes and for weeping with those who wept. Charles Lamb 
said jestingly, and as a pun on Hood's name, that he carried 
two faces — one tragic and the other comic. It was rather as if 
the two elements of his mind receiving simultaneously the 
same idea, the rarer medium invariably refracted the thought, 
and gave it an unexpected whimsical turn. As for instance, 
when speaking seriously in his address to his old associates, 
the boys of Clapham xlcademy : 

"Perchance thou deem'st it were a thing 
To wear a crown, — to be a king! 
And sleep on regal down ! 

*He had spent some time in Spain, after the failure of the Pantisocratic scheme, 
and soon after his return to England joined his friends at the lakes. His Vision 
of Judgment, published in 1821, was burlesqued by Byron in a poem of the same 
name. 



316 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Alas! thou knowest not regal cares; 
For happier is thy head that wears 
The hat without a crown ! " 

His poems of unmixed pathos are The Bridge of Sighs^ Eugene 
Aram^ aiid The Song of the Shirt. The last was written a short 
time before his death. His life was one of care and ill-health, 
and he was prone to melancholy. His heart, he said, "was 
hung lower than most people's, so he had to laugh to keep it 
up." 

His works, published in four volumes, are poems of Wit and 
Humor; Serioi(s Poems; HoocVs Own. or Laughter from Year to 
Year; and Whims and Oddities in Prose and Verse. 

He died in 1845, and the poor working- women of London, for 
whom he sang the Song of the Shirt, contributed their pittance 
to erect a monument to his memory. 

Thomas Campbell (1777-1844), born in Glasgow, Scotland, 
was one of the most polished writers of his age. While his 
poems evince more power than the classic school of writers 
following Pope, they have all the elegance of finish of that 
school combined with musical expression. His short lyrics of 
war have in them the very trumpet-blast. He was a true 
Highlander in spirit, and, like the other poets of his day, was 
zealous in the cause of liberty. Nowhere have finer words of 
indignation against Poland's oppressors been heard than those 
expressed by Campbell. His longest poems are. The Pleasures 
of Hope and Gertrude of Wyoming. 0'' Connor'' s Child, LochiePs 
Warning, Lord Ullin''s Daughter, the Exile of Erin, and the 
Soldier'' s Dream are among his best-known poems. His stirring- 
martial and patriotic songs are the Battle of the Baltic, Ye Mari- 
ners of England, and Hohenlinden. 

Other poets contemporary with the Lake Poets, as well as with Byron 
and Scott, were William Lisle Bowles, Samuel Eogers, James 
Montgomery, Ebenezer Elliot, Horace and James Smith, Mrs. 
Hemans, Letitia Elizabeth Landon (" L. E. L."), Hartley Cole- 
ridge, George Croly, etc. 

To the Sonnets of William Lisle Bowles (1762-1850), Coleridge 
attributed some of his own inspirations. The Pleasures of Memory, by 
Samuel Kogers (1763-1855), was published while Burns was living, 



DRAMATISTS. 



317 



and his Italy was published in 1822, Kogers's home of luxury and 
wealth in St. James's Place was ever open to his later brother poets— 
to some of those of the present day. 

Ebenezer Elliot (1781-1849), the Corn-Law Khymer/' wrote 
stirring verses for the poor, who were oppressed with the grievous 
monopoly which raised the price of breadstufFs beyond the means of 
the laboring-man. The Corn-Law Rhymes of Elliot aroused the people 
to oppose the selfish monopoly and secure rights to the poorer classes. 
They were rude rhymes from a generous heart. 

The brothers James Smith (1775-1839) and Horace Smith (1780- 
1849) became famous, in 1812, by the publication of their joint work 
entitled Rejected Addresses. These were poems written in imitation of 
the principal writers of the day, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey, 
Byron, and Sco*fe.* 

Horace Smith wrote also the spirited Address to the Mummy in Bel- 
zoni's Collection, and the Hymn to the Flowers. 

Felicia Hemans (1794-1835), whom it has been the fashion to 
decry somewhat, should be forever remembered as the author of the 
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. Nothing liner has ever been written 
upon the subject. There is throughout all of Mrs. Hemans's poems a 
delicate play of fancy, and often the finest touches of pathos. 

The Dramatists. 

The theatre, with its trappings and scenic displays, has, in 
the present day, superseded the Drama itself, so that the drama- 
tist of to-day is a far less important personage than the actor. 
During the time to which this chapter refers, however — from 
1830 to 1850— there were in England several fine dramas pro- 
duced by writers on miscellaneous subjects. Charles Lamb, by 
his revival of the old Elizabethan dramatists, did more, perhaps, 
than any one else of that time, to cultivate a taste for the 
drama. ' His Specimens of the Old English Dramatists., as well 
as his appreciative remarks concerning them, gave a new 
impulse and a taste for the rich dramatic poetry which he 
unfolded. It was almost like a new discovery in literature. 

James Sheridan Knowles (1784-1862) was the greatest of the 



* That assuming to be Scott's was so like his own style, that he said, when it was 
read to him, that he "supposed he had written it, but that it had passed from his 
memory." 

27* 



818 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



modern dramatists. He holds no other rank in literature ; his dramatic 
works of themselves support his fame. His first plays were based on 
Eoman history. They were Caius Gracchus and Virginius. Those best 
known upon the stage are The Wife, The Hunchback, William Tell, The 
Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, The Love Chase, etc. 

Douglas Jerrold (1803-1857) was a witty journalist and miscel- 
laneous writer, who wrote several dramas that were successfully acted. 
His first, Black-Eyed Susan, was very popular, and was followed by Time 
Works Wonde7^s and The Bubbles of a Day. His fame, however, rests 
more upon his other works — his novels and sketches ; most important 
of which are Saint Giles and St. James, The Chronicles of Clovernook, 
Punches Letters to His Son, The Caudle Lectures, etc. 

Sir Henry Taylor (1800 ) published in 1854 his best-known 

play, Philip van Artvelde. 

Thomas Noon Talfourd (1795-1854), best known by his Life of 
Charles Lamb, contributed several pieces to the dramatic literature of 
that day. His Greek tragedy of Ion was produced in 1835, and played 
with success in Covent Garden theatre, as was his succeeding tragedy 
of the Athenian Captive. Two other dramas followed, The Massacre of 
Glencoe and The Castilian. 

Miss Mitford (1786-1855), who ranks equally high in other depart- 
ments of literature, wrote numerous dramas, chief of which were Rienzi 
and Julian. 

Dean Milman (Henry Hart Milman) (1791-1868) was a 
most prolific writer, contributing to history, poetry, criticism, 
and the drama. His principal dramas are the tragedy of Fazio^ 
The Fall of Jerusalem, The Martyr of Antioch, Belshazzar, and 
Anna Boleyn. 

Novelists. 

It is interesting to observe the march and countermarch of 
the Kovel and Drama. Since the appearance of the first Eng- 
lish novel, there has been a steady decline in the productions 
of dramatic literature, and a continued and rapid advance In 
the novel, until at the present day the narrative element has 
become the chief feature in prose literature. This age of the 
novel may be compared to the Elizabethan age of the drama, 
each representing the exuberance of imaginative genius. Nor 
is there any reason why they may not again change places, and 
the drama resume its original sovereignty. 



NOVELISTS. 



319 



To the novelist, a wider latitude is given than to the poet 
and dramatist. He is subject to no conventional rules of com- 
position, no restraints except those imposed by good taste and 
knowledge. The scope of the novel, too, is infinite ; the expo- 
nent of real life in a fictitious garb, it may take all human ex- 
perience for its realm. 

The novelists belonging more especially to the period of 
which this present chapter treats are Charlotte Bronte 
("Currer Bell"), Mary Kussell Mitford, Captain Mar- 
RYAT, Samuel Lover, G. P. E. James, Mrs. Frances Trol- 
LOPE, and others who contributed to various departments of 
literature besides the novel. 

The three sisters, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Bronte, 
made their first appearance in the literary world under the 
assumed names of "Currer," "Ellis," and "Acton Bell." 
These names were attached to a volume of poems, which was 
unsuccessful. Again the three tried their fortunes in the liter- 
ary field, with but little better success. This time the work 
of each was a novel. Charlotte's was entitled The Prof essor ; 
Emily's, Wuthering Heights, and Anne's, Agnes Gray, Char- 
lotte's was returned with the encouraging advice to try again. 
She did try again, and the very same day The Professor was 
returned she commenced the novel of Jane Eyre, which was 
published in 1847. Its success was immediate and unparalleled. 
Two years afterwards Shirley appeared from the same pen, and 
the obscure "Currer Bell" was discovered to be Charlotte 
Bronte (1816-11855), daughter of a clergyman in the village 
of Haworth, Yorkshire. In 1853 her next novel, Villette, was 
published. Charlotte married her father's curate, Mr. NichoUs. 
She died in less than a year afterwards.* 

Mary Kussell Mitford (1786-1855), who died the same year as 
Charlotte Bronte, had made her first appearance in tlie literary world 
as a poetess and dramatic writer. Her sketches of rural life are among 



* " Early on Saturday morning, March 31st, the solemn tolling of Haworth church- 
bell spoke forth the fact of her death to the villagers, who had known her from a 
child, and whose hearts shivered within them as they thought of the two sitting 
desolate and alone in the old gray house. * * * * Few beyond that circle of hills 
knew that she, whom the nations praised afar off, lay dead that Easter morning. 
Of kith and kin, she had more in the grave, to which she was soon to be borne, than 
among the living."— From the Life of Charlotte Bronte, by Mrs. Gaskell. 



820 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



the most charming of her prose works. The first was entitled Our Vil- 
lage. In 1852 her Recollections of a Literary Life was published, and her 
last work, Atherton and Other Tales, in 1854. 

Mrs. Frances Trollope (1778-1863), having spent three years in 
America, published in 1832 her first work. Domestic Life of the Ameri- 
cans, in which she caricatured the manners and customs of this country. 
Notwithstanding the censure received for this work, she continued her 
satiric sketches in a novel called The Refugee in America. Mrs. Trol- 
lope afterwards travelled in Germany, and wrote Belgium and Western 
Germany in 1S33. In her first books on the Americans she ridiculed their 
foibles and vices, particularly the excessive use of tobacco and intoxi- 
cating liquors. In 1836 she renewed the attack, this time depicting the 
sufferings of the colored people in the Southern States. This work was 
called The Adventures of Jonathan Jefferson Whitlaw. Other works were 
Vienna and the Austrians, Paris and the Parisians, Visit to Italy, and in- 
numerable novels, — The Vicar of Wrexhill, The Laurringtons, etc. 

Two sons of Mrs. Trollope have also won fame in literature.^ The 

elder, Thomas Adolphus Trollope (1810 ), wrote chiefly works 

of travel and biography. Several novels also came from his pen, 
chiefly of Italian life. His residence being for a number of years at 
Florence, most of his writings are associated with Italian life. His best 
biographical work is A Decade of Italian Women. 

John Gibson *Lockhart (1794-1854), the son-in-law of Sir Walter 
Scott, wrote four novels before he became editor of the Quarterly Re- 
view, which he conducted from 1826 until 1852. He wrote several bio- 
graphical works, among them a Life of Burns, but his fame will rest 
upon his Life of Sir Walter Scott. Lockhart died at Abbotsford and 
was buried near Scott in Dryburgh Abbey. 

John Wilson (1788-1854), known as well by his pseudonym of 
Christopher North," and oftener called Professor Wilson, from his occu- 
pying the professorship of moral philosophy in Edinburgh University, 
has given us some exquisite sketches of rural life in Scotland. He first 
appeared as a poet, by the publication of a volume of poems entitled 
The Isle of Palms. He was then residing on the banks of Lake Winder- 
mere, near Wordsworth's home. In 1822 appeared his Lights and 
Shadows of Scottish Life, consisting of twenty-four short stories. His other 
stories are Trials of Margaret Lindsay and The Foresters. The Noctes 
Ambrosiance, a series of papers written mainly by Wilson, contains some 
of the finest essays and criticisms in the language. A collection of the 



* Anthony Trollope, a younger brother, noticed in the next chapter. 



PHILOSOPHIC WRITERS. 



821 



most valuable of these has been published under the title of Becrea- 
Hons of Christopher- North. 

G. P. E. James (1801-1860) wrote* innumerable novels, generally of 
a historic character. Richelieu is said to be the best. 

Two Irish novelists wrote at this time. Samuel Lover (1798-1868) 
wrote sketches of Irish life, and is the author of several popular songs. 
The Angelas Whisper, Rory G'More, The Four-leaved Shamrock, etc. 
Charles James Lever (1806-1872), a most industrious and volumi- 
nous writer, was also a native of Ireland. After his first novel in 1839, 
he published one yearly until his death. Some of his earlier novels 
rivalled those of Dickens in popularity. 

Captain Frederick Marryat (1792-1848) was a popular novelist. 
Most of his stories are of sea life. In 1837 he visited America, and, 
like Mrs. Trollope, caricatured the manners of the people. Some of 
his novels are Jacob Faithful, The Phantom Ship, Midshipman Easy, 
Peter Simple, etc. 

Philosophic Writers. 

The literature of Germany, which only sprang into vigorous 
life the latter part of the eighteenth century or the beginning 
of the nineteenth, had great influence upon the English writers 
of that time. Everywhere among thinking minds we see its 
vivifying power. 

No English writer shows greater evidence of this influence 
than Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881). To a naturally fearless, 
independent mind, it ad^ed intensity and vigor. His thoughts 
moulded themselves into heavy weapons, which he wielded 
against all forms of sham and hypocrisy. His words fell with 
sledge-hammer force, and there is inspiration in their very 
ring. He is the Tlior of writers, and the ring of his mighty 
hammer will echo through all time with the earnest purpose 
of his strokes. He has been accused of writing for dramatic 
effect. He certainly succeeded in producing dramatic eff'ects. 
His subjects are vigorously conceived and as vigorously exe- 
cuted ; such writing must produce strong effects. Force was 
his idol. 

Carlyle takes his place in literature as essayist, historian, 
biographer, translator, and satirist, while in all there is the 
inquiring mind of the philosopher. His first works were 

V 



822 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



critiques on Montesquieu., Montaigne., Nelson, Norfolk, and the 
two Pitts, published in Brewster's Edinburgh Encydopcedia. 
Soon after he translated Goethe's Wilhelm Meister, which was 
followed by the Life of Schiller, and an unequalled Essay on 
Burns. 

Sartor Hesartus, published in 1833, brought Carlyle promi- 
nently before the public. It is really a philosophical essay, 
but purports to be the history of an imaginary German pro- 
fessor. The title Sartor Resartus literally means the Tailor re- 
tailored or re-made. The work is a disquisition on the relative 
value of the material and immaterial. With grim humor, he 
treats of the philosophy of clothes. Society is invested in worn- 
out rags, and under this shabby habiUment the "divine idea" 
is concealed. 

In 1837 Carlyle published his French Revolution — a series, as 
it has been called, of "terrific tableaux."* After the publi- 
cation of the French Revolution, he wrote Critica I and Miscella- 
neous Essays, and Chartism. His essays on Hero Worship were 
delivered in London in 1840 as lectures, and published the 
next year. His Latter-Day Pamphlets assailed with invective 
and ridicule the institutions and politicians of his day. He is 
unsparing in his censure and irony. "Poor devils," "fools," 
"blockheads," and "knaves," are terms he never hesitates to 
use. He also wrote the Life of Oliver Cromwell, Life of John 
Sterling, The Past and Present, besides numerous articles pub- 
lished in various Reviews. His Critique on BoswelVs Johnson 
shows the tenderness of his nature as well as the strength. 
Evidences, however, of the gentleness of his nature are not 
wanting, but his "idlense convictions" oftener found utter- 
ance, and, to the eyes of the world, he is the exponent of force 
merely. 

Among his later works his greatest is the Life of Frederick 

* The manuscript of this wonderful work, having been lent to a friend for inspec- 
tion, was by accident destroyed, an ignorant servant taking it to light a fire. This 
brilliant and extensive work was the result of unwearied years of research and labor. 
Long afterwards Carlyle thus spoke to one of his friends of the disastrous event: 
" For three days and nights I could neither eat nor sleep, but was like a daft man. 
Then I went away into the country, and did nothing for three months but read Mar- 
ryat's novels. Then I set to work and wrote it all over again. But," said he, sadly, 
and in his native Scotch dialect, " I diuna think it's the same ; no, I diuua think it 'a 
the same." 



PHILOSOPHIC WRITERS. 



] 323 



the Great, the first portion of wliicli appeared in 1858, the last 
in 1865. 

Carlyle lost rank in the esteem of all true Americans when, 
after the breaking out of the rebellion, he sided with the 
oppressor against the oppressed, with the master against the 
slave. 

Few critics, probably, have sounded Carlyle 's depths, but all 
must feel the genuine ring of his "gospel of Work," of Duty, 
of Truth, of Force,— force, without which the highest preached 
doctrine will be unavailing. 

The chief works of Sm William Hamilton (1788-1856) are 
Discussions on Philosophy and Literature, Education, and Uni- 
versity Reform, Lectures on Logic, and Lectures on Metaphysics. 

In physical science the names of the Herschels, Sir Charles 
Bell, Sir Charles Lyell, Sir David Brewster, and Michael Fara- 
day are prominent. 

Sm William Herschel (1738-1822), although a native of 
Hanover, lived in England from the age of twenty-one until 
his death. He was one of the most remarkable astronomers 
of his day. His efficient help in his great discoveries was his 
sister, Caroline Herschel (1750-1848), a memoir of whom was 
pubhshed in 1876, by Mrs. John Herschel.'^ 

Sir John Herschel (1792-1871) was a son of Sir William 
Herschel, and a distinguished astronomer. His chief works 
are Treatise on Sound, on Light, Outlines of Astronomy, Physi- 
cal Geography, etc. 

Sir Charles Bell (1774-1842) made important discoveries 
in physiology. His Exposition of the Natural System of the 
Nerves of the Human Body, and one of the "Bridgewater 
Treatises," The Hand, its Mechanism and Vital Endowments as 
evincing Design, are among his important contributions to 
science and literature. 

Dr. William Whewell (1794-1866), who also wrote a 

* " By sheer force of will and devoted affection," says her biographer, " she learned 
enough of mathematics and of methods of calculation to be able to commit to writ- 
ing the result of his researches. She became his assistant in the workshop ; she 
helped him to grind and polish his mirrors; she stood beside his telescope in the 
nights of midwinter, to write down his observations when the very ink was frozen 
in the bottle." She herself discovered eight comets. 



324 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



" Bridge water Treatise," entitled ^sironom?/ and General Phys- 
ics considered with reference to Natural Theology^ was tiie author 
of a work, published anonymously, entitled Of the Plurality of 
Worlds. He maintained that the earth is the only abode of 
an intellectual, moral race of beings. 

The writings of Hugh Miller (1802-1856) have enriched 
literature quite as much as science. He was a native of Cro- 
marty, Scotland, and his interest in geology was awakened as 
he labored as a stone-mason. His chief works are The Old Red 
Sandstone^ Footprints of the Creator., The Testimony of the Rocks., 
besides many of personal interest. The Life and Letters of 
Hugh Miller was published by Peter Bayne, in 1872. 

Sir Charles Lyell (1797-1875), one of the most eminent 
geologists of the age, was born in Forfarshire, Scotland. His 
greatest works are The Principles of Geology and The Antiquity 
of Man. 

Sir David Brewster (1781-1867) was born in Jedburgh, 
Scotland. He became one of the most successful experimen- 
tal philosophers, while his writings are rich contributions to 
literature. His principal works are a Treatise on the Kalei- 
doscope (which instrument he had invented). Treatise on Optics^ 
On the Microscope^ The Martyrs of Science (Galileo, Tycho 
Brahe, and Kepler), and More Worlds than One. "Among his 
chief titles to celebrity are his discovery of the law of polariza- 
tion of light by reflection, and his researches on double refrac- 
tion." 

Michael Faraday (1791-1867), "the founder of the science 
of magneto-electricity," was the son of a poor blacksmith. By 
the encouragement of Sir Humphry Davy and other members 
of the Royal Society, he was enabled to devote his life to 
science. His lectures at the Royal Institution were noted for 
their singular clearness and elegance. 

Theologians. 

In 1833 a movement was made in the Church of England to- 
wards high-church doctrines. The principal advocates of this 
semi-papal innovation were the Revs. John Henry Kewman 

(1801 ), Edavard Bouverie Pusey (1800-1882), and John 

Keble (1792-1866). They advocated their doctrines in a series 



THEOLOGIANS. 



325 



of tracts, Tracts for the Times^ which gave them the name of 
" Tractarians. " All of the writers being members of the Uni- 
versity of Oxford, the movement is sometimes called the Ox- 
ford movement." They were also denominated "Puseyites. " 

The principal works of T>r. 'NmvMAN were a History of the 
Avians of the Fourth Century^ The Church of the Fathers., Essay 
on Miracles., etc. He became a member of the Roman Catholic 
Church in 1845. The writings of Pusey have a less perma- 
nent hold upon literature, while Jopi^^ Keble is better known 
for his sacred lyrics. 

Key. Frederick W. Robertson (1816-1853) spent his 
short life in trying to alleviate the sufferings of the poor, and 
in elevating the moral and intellectual condition of the work- 
ing-classes. His Life and Letters., Sermons, Lectures, and Ad- 
dresses fill several volumes. * 

Dean- Alford (Dr. Henry Ajlford) (1810-1871) began his 

*"He was one who thought for himself. When he entered Oxford, the Tractarian 
party, under the lead of Newman and Eusey, was rising rapidly into notice. He was 
pressed to join the movement; he examined its principles carefully, saw whither it 
would tend, recoiled from it, and took his stand on the opposite side. If he came 
under the influence of any one, it was that of the great and good Dr. Arnold ; and 
he went forth from the University into the world resolved to do_, in the name of 
Christ, all the good he could, by preaching the gospel, as the great Preacher 
preached it, to the poor, and by elevating and improving the masses. At Chelten- 
ham he drew to hear him, on the first day of the week, crowds whom he had 
encouraged and helped on the other six days. But it was at the wider field of 
Brighton that he labored most and accomplished most. Into that wonderful min- 
istry of six years an amount of work was crowded which could have been done only 
by a man who felt that life would be short, and that it might be useful and sublime. 
His heart had often yearned for the poor, to do them good if possible, to raise them 
from their low and sad condition, and to pour into their too weary lot the gentle and 
warm charities of Christian hearts and hand. But some men, then called good, 
trembled at the thought of elevating the working-classes, and rather looked round 
for power to keep them down. It was his habit to review all national events, and to 
seek to pour light upon all great public questions in his preaching, as well as by 
other means that offered themselves. He preached to his own age, but always 
uttered truths and principles which lay at the deep hearts of all ages. As he said 
himself, 'the great depths of humanity remain the same from age to age.'" 

"There is something," he says, " worse than death. Cowardice is worse. And the 
decay of enthusiasm and manliness is worse. And it is worse than death, ay, worse 
than a hundred thousand deaths, when a people has gravitated down into the creed 
that the 'wealth of nations ' consists, not in generous hearts — ' Fire in each breast, 
and freedom on each brow' — in national virtues, and primitive simplicity and 
heroic endurance and preference of duty to life, — not in.MEN, but in silk and cotton, 
and something that they call ' capital.' " ' 
28 



326 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



literary life by publishing a volume of Poems. "His reputa- 
tion as a divine is founded on an excellent edition of the Greek 
New Testament." He was appointed Dean of Canterbury by 
Lord Palmerston, in 1857. His Queen'' s English^ a critical work 
on language, is chiefly remarkable for its own bad English. 

Nicholas Wiseman (1802-1865) was one of the first scholars 
of Europe, and the leading English Catholic. In 1849 he be- 
came Archbishop of Westminster, and the next year was made 
Cardinal. His assumption of Archbishop met with great op- 
position from the En^ish Protestants, but his great talents 
and liberal culture finally overcame the prejudice. Besides 
numerous Sermons, Lectures, and Essays, he was editor of the 
Dublin Bevieic, a Catholic periodical. 

Bishop Colexso (John William) created some consider- 
able interest by publishing, in 1861, a denial of the inspiration 
and historic accuracy of some of the books of the Old Testa- 
ment. 

Archbishop Whately (1787-1863), best known to students 
by his Elements of Logic and Bheforic, was one of the most lib- 
eral and profound thinkers of his time. He was educated at 
Oriel College,* Oxford, where Newman, Pusey, and Keble im- 
bibed their high-church doctrines. Whately opposed the 
views of Newman and Pusey. He wrote Essai/s on Bomanism, 
Essays on some of the Difficulties of the Writings of St. Paul, etc. 

The brothers Augustus W. (1794-1834) and Julius C. 
Hare (1795-1855) became famous by their joint work, pub- 
lished in 1827, entitled Guesses at Truth. They published nu- 
merous sermons. 

History. 

The greatest name among historical writers of this period is 
that of Henry Halla3I (1778-1859). His first important 
work was a View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages, 
published in 1818. Supplemental Notes were afterwards added. 
His next work was The Constitutional History of England from 
the Accession of Henry VIL to the Death of George IL His 



* Dr. Arnold also received his education here at the same time with Richard 
Whately. An intimate friendship between the two college friends sprang up which 
lasted through life. 



HISTORY. 



327 



most important work was his Introduction to the Literature of 
Europe in the Fifteenth, Sixteenth^ and Seventeenth Centuries. 

Sm Archibald Alison's (1792-1867) most important works 
are A History of Europe from the Commencement of the French 
devolution to the Bestoration of the Bourbons (1789-1815). This 
was followed by A History of Europe from 1815 to 1852. The 
Life of the Duke of Marlborough is an introduction to these. 

TH03IAS Babington Macaulay (1808-1859) may be ranked 
almost equally well among poets, essayists, and historians. 
His Lays of Ancient Borne have a genuine ring, and hold a high 
rank in lyric poetry. His Essays are masterly productions, and 
his History is unrivalled in its strength of conception and clear- 
ness of expression. With strong sympathies and antipathies, 
he is not always just nor reliable ; and for the sake of a brill- 
iant period, he has sometimes sacrificed important truths. 
His vivid imagination wrought intense pictures. The first 
portion of Macaulay's History of England appeared in 1848. 
The history begins at the accession of James II., and was to 
be carried down to the writer's own time. But ill-health as- 
sailed him, and the work was only carried to the time of Wil- 
liam III.* 

The Essays of Macaulay are nearly all biographical. The 
first prose that drew him into public notice was his Essay on 
Hilton^ published, as most of his essays were, in the Edinburgh 
Beview. This was followed by his Essay on Lord Bacon^ Lord 
Clive, Warren Hastings, Sir Bobert Waljwle, Sir William Temple, 
and many more. He also wrote a great many critical reviews, 
as of Hdllam'^s Constitutional History, BoswelVs Johnson, Horace 
WalpoWs Letters, etc. 

In 1830 Macaulay entered Parliament, and, after his memo- 
rable speech on the bill for the renewal of the charter of the 
East India Company, he was made a member of the Supreme 
Council of India. He spent three years in India, and, becom- 
ing acquainted with its history and inhabitants, was rendered 
all the more able to produce his brilliant essays on Lord Clive 
and Warren Hastings. Returning from India in 1838, he again 
entered Parliament, this time as a representative of the city 



* Some one has called the history " an epic poem, with King William for its hero." 
Macaulay was a stanch Whig. 



328 HISTORY OF mOLlSH LITERATURE. 



of Edinburgh. He was raised to the peerage in 1857, with the 
title of Baron Macaulay.* 

Henry Hart Milman (1791-1868) wrote a History of the 
Jews^ a History of Ghfistianity, and the History of Latin Chris- 
tianity. 

Dr. Thomas Arnold (1795-1842), the beloved master of 
Eugby School, contributed to the historic works of this period. 
His principal work is the History of Borne. His Lectures on 
Modern History was published after his death. 

But it was as a teacher that Dr. Arnold was great. Into his 
noble calUng he infused all the highest attributes of mind and 
heart. To his accurate classical scholarship he added an enthu- 
siastic love for literature, and awakened in his pupils an ardent 
desire for knowledge. But above all, he inspired them with a 
desire for earnest purposes and true living, and this not only 
by precept, but by his own rare example. 

He was strongly opposed to the high-church party, and went 
so far as to advocate a union with the dissenting churches, 
maintaining that the whole body of believers were brethren in 
Christ. He never hesitated to speak out freely his convictions, 
and 

"Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway." 

The year before his death he was appointed Kegius Professor 
of Modern History at Oxford. 

Sir John Gardiner Wilkinson (1797-1875) published 
before 1850 a valuable History of the Manners and Customs 
of the Ancient Egyptians. 

Essayists, Critics, and Miscellaneous Writers. 

The numerous Reviews tempted the pens of innumerable 
aspirants for literary fame, the names of some of whom will 
descend to posterity with unfaded lustre. 

One of the earliest contributors to the Edinburgh Review was 
Henry Brougham (1779-1868) (afterwards Lord Brougham). 



* Macaulay's life was mainly that of a scholar. He mingled rarely in the gay cir- 
cles of the fashionable literary world, except now and then at the Holland House. 
His father, Zachary Macaulay, was of Scotch descent. He was a friend of Wilber- 
force, and a zealous advocate of the abolition of the slave-trade. 



MISCELLANEOUS WRITERS. 329 

He found his appropriate sphere for his forensic abilities when 
he entered Parliament. There, with unceasing energy, he 
labored against every form of abuse. He was the advocate of 
the abolition of slavery, of religious toleration, popular educa- 
tion, free trade, and law reform. In 1830 he became Lord 
Chancellor. After his retirement from this office he wrote a 
great variety of works, besides his contributions to the Edin- 
burgh Eeview. The most important are Memoirs of the States- 
men of the Beign of George III. ; Lives of Men of Letters and Sci- 
ence in the Reign of George III.; Political Philosophy ; Speeches.^ 
with Historical Introductions^ and Dissertations upon the Eloquence 
of the Ancients; Discourse on Paley^s Natural Theology ; Ana- 
lytical Review of Sir Isaac Newton'' s Principia.^ and various pam- 
phlets on law reform. In his eighty-fourth year he began his 
last work, Sketches of his Life and Times. 

It is to be regretted that, in the American struggle to over- 
throw slavery. Lord Brougham gave his sympathy to the slave- 
holding party, notwithstanding his early feelings on the sub- 
ject of human bondage. He died at Cannes in his ninetieth 
year. 

Charles Lamb (1775-1834) was more intimately associated 
with the writers given in the present chapter, although more 
strictly contemporary with those of the preceding chapter. 
We are attracted to this genial writer by his exuberance of 
joyous spirits, his innumerable social qualities, and, above all, 
by his life of cheerful self-abnegation. To appreciate his life of 
sacrifice we must see his devoted love and care for his afflicted 
sister, see the days of anxious watching, and know the prospect 
of happiness which he relinquished for her sake. To see him 
socially we need not go farther than his own humble home in 
London. It must be Wednesday evening, and perhaps Words- 
worth and Coleridge and Southey are in town, and will be there. 
We shall at least find Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt, probably Hood 
and De Quincey, who usually spend Wednesday evenings here. 
There is a rattling flow of conversation. Lamb never so well 
pleased as when listening to his guests, especially to Coleridge, 
and his guests never better entertained than when listening to 
the gay sallies and repartees of their host, albeit they were 
stammered forth. The gentle sister, Mary Lamb, presides as 
28* 



330 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



hostess, watching with loving, careful eye lest the convivial 
humor of her brother overleap its bounds/^ 

Charles Lamb was a true Londoner. He loved the busy, 
crowded streets, the bustling life, in short, he loved people. 
The lakes and mountains might be enjoyed by Wordsworth and 
other rural poets ; it was the great throbbing heart of human- 
ity that Charles Lamb loved, and that he found in London. 

That which was quaint or odd in literature attracted him. 
The whims of old Sir Thomas Browne, of Milton's times, were 
caught and retlected by Lamb, whether consciously or uncon- 
sciously.! His fine appreciation and critical judgment brought 
into popular notice the old Elizabethan dramatists. He was 
an enthusiastic admirer of Shakespeare and the drama. In 
1808 he published his Specimens of English Dramatic Poets ivho 
Liced About the Time of Shakespeare, ivith Notes. 

But the most popular of all Lamb's works are his Essays, 
under the signature of Elia. With his- sister, Mary Lamb 
(17G5-1847), he wrote books for children, principal among them 
Tales from Shakespeare. This congenial occupation furnished 
a healthful source of amusement for the afflicted sister, and 
many happy hours were thus spent. 

Charles Lamb's early education had been received at Christ 
Hospital, where he first made the acquaintance of Coleridge. 
At the age of eighteen he received an appointment as clerk in 
the India House, London, which position he held for more than 
thirty years, when he retired on a handsome pension, scarcely 
knowing what to do with his large liberty. His fame as an 
author had been steadil}^ growing, for the hours required at the 
India House left him time for literary labor. It is told of this 
humorist, that going late to his post of duty one morning, his 
superior reminded him of other similar offenses, to which Lamb 
replied with characteristic humor, " True, sir, very true, I often 
come late ; but then, you know, I always go away early ! " t 



* A Wednesday evening at the Lamb's was only equalled by that other literary 
coterie assembled at the Holland House, where Lord and Lady Holland entertained 
the wits of the day, provided they were Whigs. 

f Sir Thomas Browne wrote " Vulgar Errors ; " Charles Lamb wrote Popular Falla- 
cies. 

X His fund of humor never exhausted itself. A friend once met him on the street 



MISCELLANEOUS WRITERS. 



331 



William Hazlitt (1778-1830) made literature his life and 
means of support. He was a rare critic, and his essays, pub- 
lished in the periodicals of the day, are rich in thought and 
imagination. His chief works are Principles of Human Action^ 
Characters of Shakespeare'' s Plays, Table Talk, Lectures on the 
Dramatic Literature of EUzaheth''s Age, Lectures on English 
Poetry, etc. 

Leigh Hunt (1784-1859), like Hazhtt, devoted his life to 
literature, and was one of the fine critics and miscellaneous 
writers of the time. Early in life he began to edit a paper 
entitled the Examiner. For speaking too freely of the charac- 
ter of the Prince Regent (afterwards George TV.), he was thrown 
into prison for two years.* His prose works embrace a variety 
of subjects. Among them are Reminiscences of Friends and 
Contemporaries, Stories of Italian Poets, Classic Tales, etc. His 
chief poem is the Story of Bimini, and he is gratefully remem- 
bered for the exquisite little poem, Ahou Ben Adhem. 

Thomas De Quincey (1785-1859) was a warm admirer of 
Wordsworth and friend of Coleridge. In mental organization 
he resembled the latter. His conversational powers are de- 
scribed as equalling those of Coleridge. His literary works, 
like those of Coleridge, were fragmentary. " He never finished 
anything," said the London Quarterly, "except his sentences, 
which are models of elaborate workmanship." The greatest 
resemblance, perhaps, between these two great minds, powerful 
in their natural strength, was the total wreck which each suf- 
fered from the dread habit of opium-eating. The epithet of 
" the English Opium-Eater " will forever cling to De Quincey 's 
name, from his own exposure of his weakness in his wonderful 
work, the Confession of an Opium-Eater. De Quincey wrote 
on a variety of subjects — historical, imaginative, and specula- 
tive. Upon Milton, Wordsworth, and Coleridge he wrote in 
warmest praise. f 

carrying home a hare. " Come, come with me to dinner," stuttered Lamb ; " we are 
going to have a 'hare and many friends.' " 

* Airy and light of heart, as all of his friends knew him, he had converted even 
his cell into a fairy-palace. If Dickens saw in him the prototype of " Horace Skim- 
pole," Carlyle saw in him a true, graceful, genuine nature. 

t For many yeai's De Quincey lived among the lakes, with the company of poets 
there. 



332 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Walter . Savage Landor (1775-1864) is scarcely as well 
known to the general reader as he deserves to be. Plis Imagi- 
nary Conversations., upon which his fame now mainly rests, de- 
serves a place in every library. He was a devoted lover of 
classical studies, and his Imaginary Conversations are written 
somewhat in the style of Plato's, introducing historical charac- 
ters as discussing questions of public or private import. Among 
these dialogues are conversations between Queen Elizabeth and 
Cecil., Hoger Ascham and Lady Jane Grey, Lord Brooke and Sir 
Philip Sidney., Dr. Johnson and Home Tooke, Milton and Andrew 
Marvel, Marcus TulUus and Quintus Cicero, and Southey and 
Porson.* The latter are represented as discussing the merits of 
Wordsworth. The author throws himself heartily into each 
character and into the very spirit of the age, while his accurate 
historical knowledge makes the Conversations reliable pictures 
of the past. 

Perhaps no writers contributed more to the healthful liter- 
ature of the middle part of this century than William and Mary 
Howitt. Their whole married life was a joint literar}^ partner- 
ship. William Howitt (1795 ), after writing Rural Life 

in England, and Visits to Remarkable Places, removed with his 
family to Germany, and spent two years at Heidelberg. Here 
he wrote Student Life in Germany. Returning to England he 
wrote Homes and Haunts of British Poets and The Aristocracy of 
England. Together William and Mary Howitt wrote a valuable 
History of the Literature of Scandinavia, which was published in 

1852. Mary Hoavitt (1804 ), besides her joint labor with 

her husband, has produced a great many individual works of 
both prose and poetry. Her ballads are most popular, and she 
has been styled "the poetess of the young, the humble, and 
the poor." Her stories for the young, written originally for 
her own children, are replete with wise instruction and whole- 
some entertainment. Among those to be gratefully remembered 
are Strive and Thrive, Hope on Hope Ever, Work and Wages, 
Sowing and Reaping, etc. She translated all of Fredrika Bre- 
mer's works from the Swedish, and many of Hans Christian 
Andersen's from the Danish. The theme that always attracted 
her most was childhood with its joys and griefs. 



* Richard Porson was the finest Greek scholar of the age. 



LITERATURE OF WORDSWORTH'S AGE. 333 



Illustrations of the Literature of Wordsworth's 

Age. 



WORDSWORTH. 

A Portrait. 

She was a phantom of delight 
When first she gleamed upon my sight; 
A lovely apparition, sent 
To be a moment's ornament ; 
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; 
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair ; 
But all things else about her drawn 
From May-time and the cheerful dawn; 
A dancing shape, an image gay. 
To haunt, to startle, and waylay. 

I saw her upon nearer view, 

A spirit, yet a woman too ! 

Her household motions light and free, 

And steps of virgin liberty ; 

A countenance in which did meet 

Sweet records, promises as sweet ; 

A creature not too bright or good 

For human nature's daily food ; 

For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. 

And now I see with eye serene 
The very pulse of the machine ; 
A being breathing thoughtful breath, 
A traveller betwixt life and death ; 
The reason firm, the temperate will. 
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill, 
A perfect woman, nobly planned, 
To warn, to comfort, and command ; 
And yet a spirit still, and bright 
With something of an angel light. 



334 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Sonnets. 

(The World is Too Much with Us.) 

The world is too much with us; late and soon, 
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: 
Little we see in nature that is ours ; 
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! 
This sea tliat bares her bosom to the moon, 
The winds that will be howling at all hours. 
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 
For this, for everything, we are out of tune ; 
It moves us not. Great God ! I 'd rather be 
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn ; 
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ; 
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. 

Milton. 

Milton ! thou shouldst be living at this hour ; 

England hath need of thee ; she is a fen 

Of stagnant Avaters ; altar, sword, and pen. 

Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower. 

Have forfeited their ancient English dower 

Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; 

Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; 

And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. 

Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart ; 

Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea 

Pure as the naked heavens — majestic, free. 

So didst thou travel on life's common way 

In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart 

The lowliest duties on herself didst lay. 

From Sonnets. 

Scorn not the sonnet ; critic, you have frowned. 
Mindless of its just honors ; with this key 
Shakespeare unlocked his heart. -5^ * * 

* * ^ and when a damp 
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand 
The thing became a trumpet. 



Plain living and high thinking are no more. 



LITERATURE OF WORDSWORTH'S AGE. 



835 



From Three Yeaks She Grew, etc. 

And she shall lean her ear 

In many a secret place, 
Where rivulets dance their wayward round, 
And beauty born of murmuring sound, 

Shall pass into her face. 

From Tintern Abbey. 

That best portion of a good man's life, 
His little, nameless, imremembered acts 
Of kindness and of love. 

The sounding cataract 

Haunted me like a passion. — Ihid. 

Hearing oftentimes 

The still, sad music of humanity. — Ihid. 

Nature never did betray 

The heart that loved her. — Ihid. 

From Peter Bell. 

In vain, through every changeful year, 
Did Nature lead him, as before ; 
A primrose by a river's brim, 
A yellow primrose was to him, 
And it was nothing more. 

From The Solitary Reaper. 

The music in my heart I bore 
Long after it was heard no more. 

COLERIDGE. 

From The Ancient Mariner. 

Day after day, day after day. 
We stuck, nor breath nor motion ; 
As idle as a painted ship 
Upon a painted ocean. 

Water, water everywhere. 
And all the boards did shrink ; 
Water, water everywhere, 
Nor any drop to drink. 

* * T^- * 



886 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Oh, sleep ! it is a blessed thing, 
Beloved from pole to pole. 

* 7f -X- * * 

And the coming wind did rqar more loud, 
And the sails did sigh like sedge; 
And the rain poured down from one black cloud; 
The moon was at its edge. 

^4- -X- -X- * * 

Around, around flew each sweet sound. 
Then darted to the sun ; 
Slowly the sounds came back again, 
Now mixed, now one by one. 

Sometimes a dropping from the sky, 
I heard the sky-lark sing; 
Sometimes all little birds that are, 
How they seemed to fill the sea and air 
With their, sweet jargoning ! 

And now 'twas like all instruments, 
Now like a lonely flute; 
And now it is an angel's song, 
That makes the heavens be mute. 

It ceased ; yet still the sails made on 

A pleasant noise till noon ; 

A noise like of a hidden brook 

In the leafy month of June, 

That to the sleeping woods all night 

Singeth a quiet tune. 

-;f -x- * -x- 

He prayeth well who loveth well 

Both man and bird and beast ; — 

He prayeth best who loveth best 

All things both great and small, 

For the dear God who loveth us, 

He made and loveth all. 

■X- * -X- * -X- 

A sadder and a wiser man, 
He rose the morrow morn. 

From Christ ABEL. 
There is not wind enough to twirl 
The one red leaf, the last of its clan, 
That dances as often as dance it can, 



LITERATURE OF WORDSWORTH' S AGE. 



Hanging so light, and hanging so higli, 

On the topmost twig that looks up to the sky. 

* ^ * 4f 4:- 

Alas, they had been friends in youth, 

But -whispering tongues can poison truth, 

And constancy lives in realms above, 

And life is thorny ; and youth is vain ; 

And to be wroth with one we love, 

Doth work like madness in, the brain. 

SOUTHEY. 

From The March to Moscow. 
And Counsellor Brougham was all in a fume 
At the thought of the march to Moscow. 
The Russians, he said, they were undone, 
And the great Fee-Faw-Fum would presently come, 
With a hop, step, and jump into London. 

■5«- -Jf ^ * * -Sf * 

Mr. Jeffrey said so, who must certainly know, 
For he was the Edinburgh Prophet. 
They all of them knew Mr. Jeffrey's Review, 
Through thick and thin to its party true ; 
Its back was buff and its sides were blue, 
Morbleu ! Parbleu ! 

It served them for law and for gospel too. 

From The Scholar. 

My days among the dead are past; 

Around me I behold, 
Where'er these casual eyes are cast, 

The mighty minds of old; 
My never-failing friends are they, 
With whom I converse day by day. 

HOOD. 

From The Tale of a Trumpet. 

She was deaf as a stone — say one of the stones 
Demosthenes sucked to improve his tones; 
And surely deafness no further could reach 
Than to be in his mouth without hearing his speech. 
* -s- ^« -s^- * 

29 W 



338 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



She was deaf as a nut, for nuts, no doubt, 
Are deaf to the grub that 's hollowing out ; 
She Avas deaf, alas ! as the dead and forgotten. 
Gray has noticed the waste of breath 
In addressing the dull, cold ear of death. 

From A IS'octurxal Sketch, 
Even is come ; and from the dark park hark ! 
The signal of the setting sun — one gun ! 
And six is sounding from the chime, prime time 
To go and see the Drury Lane Dane slain, 
Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out, 
Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade 
Denying to his frantic clutch much touch. 

From Miss Kilmansegg. 
The very metal of merit they told. 
And praised her for being as good as gold 

Till she grew as a peacock haughty ; 
Of money they talk'd the whole day round, 
And weigh'd desert like grapes by the pound, 
Till she had an idea from the very sound. 

That people with naught were naughty. 
* ^ ' ^ ^ ^ 

The books to teach the verbs and nouns. 
And those about countries, cities, and towns, 
Instead of their sober drabs and browns. 
Were in crimson silk, with gilt edges ; 
Old Johnson shone out in as fine array 
As he did one night when he went to the play ; 
Lindley Murray in like conditions ; 
Each weary, unwelcome, irksome task 
Appear'd in a fancy dress and a mask, 

Erom Ode TO Melaxcholy. 
There's not a string attuned to mirth, 
But has its chord in melancholy. 

LEIGH HUNT. 

Abou Ben Adhem. 

Abou Ben Adhem — may his tribe increase ! — 
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, 



LITERATURE OF WORDS WORTH'S AGE. 



389 



And saw, within the moonlight in his room, 

Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, 

An angel writing in a book of gold. 

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, 

And to the presence in his room he said, 

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, 

And, with a look made of all sweet accord, 

Answer' d, " The names of those who love the Lord." 

" And is mine one ? " said Abou. " ^^ay, not so," 

Eeplied the angel. Abou spoke more low, 

But cheerly still ; and said, " I pray thee, then, 

"Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." 

The angel wrote and vanish'd. The next night 

It came again with a great wakening light, 

And show'd the names whom love of God had bless'd. 

And, lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. 

OARLYLE. 

Prom An Address Delivered to the Students of 
THE University of Edinburgh. 

If you will believe me, you Avho are young, yours is the golden season 
of life. As you have heard it called, so it verily is, — the seed-time of 
life, in which, if you do not sow, or if you soav tares instead of wheat, 
you cannot expect to reap well afterwards, — you will bitterly repent 
when it is too late. The habits of study acquired at universities are of 
the highest importance in after-life. At the season when you are young 
in years, the whole mind is, as it were, fluid, and is capable of forming 
itself into any shape that the owner of the mind pleases to let it, or 
order it to form itself into. Pursue your studies in the way your con- 
science calls honest. Keep an actual separation between what you have 
really come to know in your own minds and what is still unknown. 
Count a thing known only when it is stamped on your mind, so that 
you may survey it on all sides with intelligence. There is such a thing 
as a man endeavoring to persuade himself, and endeavoring to persuade 
others, that he knows about things, when he does not know more than 
the outside skin of them ; and yet he goes flourishing about with them. 
Avoid all that, as entirely unworthy of an honorable mind. Gradually 
see what kind of work you can do ; for it is the first of all problems for 
a man to find out what kind of work he is to do in this universe. 

A man is born to expend every particle of strength that God has 
given him, in doing the work he finds he is fit for, — to stand up to it to 



340 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



the last breath of life, and to do his best. We are called upon to do 
that ; and the reward we all get is that we have got the work done, or, 
at least, that we have tried to do the work. For that is a great blessing 
in itself ; and, I should say, there is not very much more reward than 
that going in this world. If the man gets meat and clothes, what mat- 
ters it whether he have ten thousand pounds or seventy pounds a year ? 
He can get meat and clothes for that ; and he will find very little differ- 
ence, intrinsically, if he is a wise man. 

Finally, gentlemen, I have one advice to give you, which is practi- 
cally of very great importance, — that health is a thing to be attended 
to continually, — that you are to regard that as the very highest of all 
temporal things. There is no kind of achievement you could make in 
the world that is equal to perfect health. 

Dost thou think that there is no justice? It is what the fool hath 
said in his heart. I tell thee again there is nothing else but justice. 
One strong thing I find here below ; the just thing, the true thing. My 
friend, if thou hadst all the artillery of Woolwich trundling at thy back 
in support of an unjust thing, and bonfires ahead of thee to blaze cen- 
turies long for thy victory in behalf of it, I would advise thee to call 
halt, to fling down thy baton, and say, " In God's name, no ! " Thy 
"success"? Poor devil, what will thy success amount to? If the 
thing is unjust, thou hast not succeeded. 

MACAULAY. 

From Essay on Miltojt. 

There are a few characters which have stood the closest scrutiny and 
the severest tests, which have been tried in the furnace, and have proved 
pure, which have been weighed in the balance, and have not been found 
wanting, Avliich have been declared sterling by the general consent of 
mankind, and which are visibly stamped with the image and superscrip- 
tion of the Most High. These great men we trust that we know how 
to prize ; and of these was Milt(m. The sight of his books, the sound 
of his name, are refreshing to us. His thoughts resemble those celestial 
fruits and flowers which the Virgin Martyr of Massinger sent down from 
the gardens of Paradise to the earth, distinguished from the productions 
of other soils, not only by their superior bloom and sweetness, but by 
their miraculous efficacy to invigorate and to heal. They are powerful 
not only to delight, but to elevate and purify. Nor do we envy the man 
who can study either the life or the writings of the great poet andj^atriot 
AvithoMt aspiring to emulate, not indeed the sublime works with which 



LITERATURE OF WORDSWORTH'S AGE, 341 



his genius has enriched our literature, but the zeal with which he la- 
bored for the public good, the fortitude with which he endured every 
private calamity, the lofty disdain with which he looked down on temp- 
tation and dangers, the deadly hatred which he bore to bigots and 
tyrants, and the faith which he so sternly kept with his country and 
with his fame. 

CHARLES LAMB. 

From A Letter to Coleridge, 
I have been reading The Task with fresh delight. I am glad you 
love Cowper. I could forgive a man for not enjoying Milton ; but I 
would not call that man my friend who should be offended with the 
" divine chit-chat of Cowper." 

I am w^edded, Coleridge, to the fortunes of my sister and my poor old 
father. Oh, my friend ! I think sometimes, could I recall the days that 
are past, which among them should I choose? Not those "merrier 
days," not the "pleasant days of hope," not "those wanderings with a 
fair-haired maid," which I have so often and so feelingly regretted, but 
the days, Coleridge, of a mother^s fondness for her school-boy. What 
would I give to call her back to earth for one day, on my knees to ask 
her pardon for all those little asperities of temper which, from time to 
time, have given her gentle spirit pain ! 

From Popular Fallacies. 
Candle-light is our OAvn peculiar and household planet. Wanting it, 
what savage, unsocial nights must our ancestors have spent, wintering 
in caves and unillumined fastnesses ! They must have lain about and 
grumbled at one another in the dark. What repartees could have 
passed, when you must have felt about for a smile, and handled a neigh- 
bor's cheek to be sure that he understood it ? This accounts for the 
seriousness of the elder poetry. . . . Jokes came in with candles. 

^ FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON, D.D. 

It is in vain to rail at works of fiction with indiscriminate censure. 
Read they will be, and read they nuist be ; and if we are asked the 
reason why Avorks of fiction are matters of importance, the best reply 
which has been suggested is, that they enlarge the heart, enabling us to 
sympathize with the hearts of a larger circle of the human race than 
that into which our own experience admits us. You are all familiar 
with the works of Dickens. The effect of that man's writings upon 
English feelings and English sympathies is quite incalculable. The 
peculiar feature of his works is, that their scenes are always placed in 
29* 



842 



HISTORY OF EmLISH LITERATURE. 



the ordinary walks of life. It is the character of all fiction now. The 
Clarissas and Grandisons of past ages have disappeared, and the life 
exhibited to us now is that of the lower classes of society. Men who 
by reading the works of Cooper had learned to feel that there was a 
real human life in the heart of the red Indian of the prairie, and who, 
by reading the works of Scott, learned that beneath the helmets and 
mail of iron which rust in our armories, human passions and affections 
once beat warm, were insensibly taught by the works of Dickens to feel 
that in this country, close to their own homes, there was a truth of 
human life, the existence of Avhich they had not suspected. We all 
remember the immense sensation those works made at first. If you 
asked the lady who was getting out of her coroneted carriage at the 
bookseller's shop what it was she wanted, you were told she had come 
to inquire if the new number of Dickens's last work were out yet. If 
you saw a soldier on the turnpike road with his knapsack on his back, 
reading as he went, and stepped up behind him and looked over his 
shoulder, hoping, perhaps, to see that it was a tract, you saw it was the 
same everlasting Dickens. From the throne to tlie cottage this was 
true. What was the result of this ? Imperceptibly, one which all the 
pulpits of the country would have been glad to combine in producing. 
The hearts of the rich and poor were felt to throb together, 

DR. THOMAS ARNOLD. 

From A Letter to a Friend. 

Another point to which I attach nuich importance is liveliness. 
This seems to me an essential condition of sympathy with creatures so 
lively as boys are naturally, and it is a great matter to make them 
understand that liveliness is not folly or thoughtlessness. Now, I think 
the prevailing manner among many valuable men at Oxford is the 
very opposite to liveliness; and I think that this is the case partly 
with yourself ; not at all from affectation, but from natural temper, 
encouraged, perhaps, rather than checked, by a belief that it is right 
and becoming. But this appears to me to be in point of manner the 
great difference between a clergyman with a parish and a school-master. 
It is an illustration of St. Paul's rule, " Rejoice with them that rejoice, 
and weep with them that weep." A clergyman's intercourse is very 
much Avith the sick and the poor, where liveliness would be greatly 
misplaced ; but a school-master's is Avith the young, the strong, and the 
happy, and he cannot get on with them unless in animal spirits he can 
sympathize with them, and show them that his thoughtfulness is not 
connected with selfishness and weakness. 



SYLLABUS. 



343 



Syllabus. 

Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey were called the " Lake Poets." 
They sought to bring the art of poetry back to nature. 
Wordsworth maintained that the ordinary topics of daily life were fit 
subjects for poetry. 

He was ridiculed by critics. 

When he died in 1850, he was considered the first poet of the age. 
There are fine poetic veins running throughout everything he has written. 
The love of nature was with him a passion. 
He is the next sonnet- writer after Milton. 

His principal poems are The Excursion, Hart-Leap Well, Yarroiv Visited, 
etc., Laodamia, Ode on Immortality, She was a Phantom of Delights, Ruth, 
Lucy, We are Seven, etc. 

Among those most ridiculed were Peter Bell, The Idiot Boy, Alice Fell, 
The Blind Highland Boy, etc. 

Coleridge possessed rare genius, but lacked firmness of will. 

He was remarkable as a conversationist. 

Many of his poems were left uncompleted. Of these Christabel is most 
important. 

His completed poems are The Ancient Mariner, Genevieve, Hymn to 
Mont Blanc. His chief dramatic poem was the tragedy, Remorse. He 
gave an inimitable translation of Schiller's Wallenstein. 

Coleridge and Wordsworth published their first poems together, under 
the title of Lyrical Ballads. 

The Pantisocracy was a visionary scheme of Coleridge, Southey, and 
Lovell to establish a community. 

The prose works of Coleridge are Lay Sermons, Biographia Literaria, 
The Friend, Aids to Reflection, The Constitution of Church and State, Table 
Talk, and Literary Remains. 

Southey and Coleridge presented great contrasts in character. 

Southey's industry was remarkable. 

His long poems are Joan of Arc, 3Iadoc, The Curse of Kehama, Thalaba, 
and Roderick. 
His shorter poems are simple in diction. 

Southey had a great facility for rhyming. The Cataract of Lodore and 
March to Moscoio are examples. 

His prose works — Biograjjhies and Letters — are highly valued. 

The poetess Caroline Anne Southey was his second wife. 

Thomas Hood was the greatest humorist of the age. His own life was a 
sad one. 

He was the poet of humanity. His serious poems are The Bridge of 
Sighs, Eugene Aram, and The Song of the Shirt. His poems of wit and 
humor are innumerable. 

Thomas Campbell was born in Scotland. His principal poems are The 



344 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Pleasures of Hope, Gertrude of Wyoming, O'Connor's Child, LochieVs 
Warning, etc. 

Minor poets of the time were William Lisle Bowles, Samuel Eogere, 
James Montgomery, Ebenezer Elliot ("the Corn-Law Rhymer"), the 
brothers Horace and James Smith, Mrs. Hemans, Miss Landon (''L. E. L."), 
Hartley Coleridge, and George Croly. 

The publication of Specimens of the Old English Dramatists, by Charles 
Lamb, reopened the treasures of the Elizabethan drama and gave an im- 
pulse to dramatic literature. 

The chief dramatists of the age were James Sheridan Knowles, Douglas 
Jerrold, Sir Henry Taylor, Thomas Noon Talfourd, Miss Mitford, and Henry 
Hart Milman. 

The novelists of this period were Charlotte Bronte, Mary Russell Mit- 
ford, Captain Marryat, Samuel Lover, Charles James Lever, G. P. R. James, 
Mrs. Trollope. The Scotch novelists were Lockhart and Wilson. 

The philosophic minds of England in the early part of the nineteenth 
century were influenced by German thought. 

Thomas Carlyle ranks in literature as essayist, historian, biographer, 
translator. In all he is the philosopher. 

His principal works besides his Critiques are Sartor Resartus, The French 
Revolution, Hero Worship, Latter-Day Pamphlets, Past and Present, and 
Life of Frederick the Great. His essays on eminent characters contain 
some of his best thoughts. 

Force was his idol. 

Sir William Hamilton was a noted metaphysician of the time. 

Among physical scientists were the Herschels, Sir Charles Bell, Dr. Wil- 
liam Whewell, Sir Charles Lyell, Sir David Brewster, Michael Faraday. 

Hugh Miller contributed rather to literature than to science. 

In theology, a movement was being made towards high-church doctrines. 

Newman, Pusey, and John Keble were most prominent in the move- 
ment. 

Other divines of the time were Frederick W. Robertson, Dean Alford, 
Nicholas Wiseman, Bishop Colenso, and the brothers Hare. 

In history, the greatest names of the middle part of the century are 
Hallam, Macaulay, Alison, Milman, Dr. Arnold. 

Henry Brougham (Lord Brougham) early distinguished himself as a 
writer in the Edinburgh Review. He became more famous afterwards in 
Parliament. 

Charles Lamb was one of the most genial writers of the time. His Essays 
of Elia is his most important work. 
William Hazlitt was a rare critic. 
Leigh Hunt was a miscellaneous writer. 
Thomas De Quincey was also a miscellaneous writer. 
Walter Savage Landor is best known by his Lmaginary Conversations. 
William and Mary Howitt enriched literature by their joint productions. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



— X5^0« 

The Victorian Age. 

1850 to the Present. 

QUEEN VICTORIA ascended the throne in 1837. The 
measures of reform begun in the reign of her predecessor 
were extended. Tlie cry for clieap bread which was ringing 
through England wlien tlie young Queen ascended the tlirone, 
was augmented into a demand for extended privileges, the 
main point being universal suffrage. To this end, a charter 
was drawn up by the Workingmen's Association, and its up- 
holders were known as Chartists. In 1845 the corn laws were 
repealed, and in 1867, after innumerable efforts, a new Reform 
Bill was passed. Since then there has been a constant ebb 
and flow in English politics. 

From 1832 until the present time there has been a steady 
intellectual growth. One marked change may be observed, 
more, perhaps, in the popular taste than in authorship. 
In the early and middle part of the century it was a new poem 
that attracted the attention of the reading public, to-day it is 
the new novel. The masses, owing to a greater diffusion of 
education, are now demanding literature as a recreation, and 
the romance and story of every-day life best suit the popular 
taste. The age demands prose rather than poetry. The new 
facts revealed by science, the new light in which history is 
viewed, give to scientific and historic works a place and inter- 
est in literature unknown before. 
It is not a necessary conclusion that poetry declines as civil- 

345 



346 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



ization advances. Poetry, the highest form of human expres- 
sion, can never decline. Its outward forms may vary, and the 
history of literature shows that both prose and poetry have 
been subject to freaks,— whims of art. When, in Elizabeth's 
time, "Euphuism" prevailed in England, threatening to ener- 
vate the vigorous prose, Gabriel Harvey, a friend of Spenser's 
and Sir Philip Sidney's, had nearly persuaded these poets to 
join with himself to "reform" English poetry, — to abolish 
rhyme and introduce the Latin system of quantity in verse. 
Good sense prevailed, however, over false taste, and the 
scheme did not prosper. Still, as we have seen, other schools 
sprang up, —the "metaphysical," " classical," and " foolish-fan- 
tastical," as the Delia Cruscan school might be termed, which 
had an ephemeral existence in the latter part of the eighteenth 
century."^ A similar unhealthy movement may be noticed at 
the present day, in a style of poetry which had a healthy 
origin in the pre-Kaphaelite school of art originated by Ruskin, 
but which has at the present day degenerated into the burlesqued 
school of " sestheticism." f 

Alfred Tennyson (1810 ) and Elizabeth Barkett 

Browning (1809-1861) hold the highest rank among the Victo- 
rian poets. Of later years, Robert Browning (1812 ) has 

been accorded a place almost as high among the poets of his 
time. 

For fifty years Alfred Tennyson has steadily kept his 
place in jiublic favor, and for more than thirty years he has 
been poet-laureate of England. His highest poetic art is ex- 
pressed in his shortest lyrics. They are the very condensation 
of feeling and expression. The PoeVs Song^ Break, Brealc, 
Break, and the Bugle Song are among the rarest gems in the 
language. Human utterance seemed to reach perfection in the 
Bugle Song, while that which lies beyond all utterance is illus- 
trated in Break, Break, Break. In Memoriam, one of his longest 
poems, is an elegy written on the death of his beloved friend 



* This school was the outgrowth of an unhealthy fancy entertained by a few self- 
styled poets, who, from their leader's pseudonym, took the name of Delia Cruscans. 

f The spirit of this school has invaded every department of art, poetry, painting, 
architecture, and dress, and not to decorate with sunflowers, cat-tails, and curtailed 
views, is not to be in the height of fashion. 



THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



347 



Arthur Henry Hallem (1811-1833). It contains gems of 
thought and expression. In The Idylls of the King^ Tennyson 
has given new life to the traditions of King Arthur and his 
Knights of the Round-Table, retaining to a remarkable degree 
the spirit of the original stories. Among other longer poems 
are The Princess (a medley), 1847 ; Maud^ 1856 ; Enoch Arden, 
1864. Queen Mary (a drama), was published in 1875, and was 
followed the next year by Harold, another dramatic poem. 
Since then The Lover^s Tale^ The Revenge (a ballad), and other 
minor poems have been published. 

Among the most popular poems of Tennyson are Locksley 
Hall, Godiva^ Dora, The Lord of Burleigh, The May Queen, The 
Two Voices, Lady Glare, The Talking Oak, etc. 

Tennyson was born in Somersby, Lincolnshire. For many 
years he resided on the Isle of Wight, but since 1869 he has 
lived at Petersfield, Hampshire. His two elder brothers, Fred- 
erick and Charles, have also published poems. The laureate's 
first publication was with his brother Charles, in a volume en- 
titled Foems by Two Brothers. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning w^as born in Lon- 
don. She vs^as an invalid the most of her life. Her early edu- 
cation was carefully watched by her father, a wealthy English 
gentleman. She was very precocious, acquiring when quite 
young a knowledge of the classics rarely possessed by young 
men of her age. When she was but seventeen her Essay on 
Mind was published. The work which brought her first before 
the public was her translation of Prometheus Bound, from the 
old Greek poet ^schylus. Then followed The Seraphim, A 
Drama of Exile, etc. In 1850 she wrote Lady Geraldine''s Gourt- 
ship, and the next year Gasa Guidi Windoios. The longest poem, 
Aurora Leigh, has been styled "a novel in verse," and was 
written, it might seem, to advocate her " convictions upon 
Life and Art." Other poems are Bertha in the Lane, The Lost 
Bower, The Gry of the Ghildren, The Gry of the Human, The 
Bhyme of the Duchess May, The Vision of Poets, etc., beside 
innumerable Sonnets. Her Sonnets from the Portuguese, like 
Shakespeare's sonnets, best reveal her own inner life. 

The poetry of Mrs. Browning is not of a popular order. It 
fits heights and depths of moods. It is only in moments of 



348 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



inspiration, on the reader's part, that her full meaning flashes 
upon him. Her heart was open to the cry of humanity, and 
her sympathies intensely awakened with the oppressed of 
every nation. For years she resided with her husband, Robert 
Browning, and their one son in Florence, and 

"From Casa Guidi windows (she) looked forth" 

and watched with the eye of a patriot the fate of Italy, and the 
actions of ISTapoleon III., Victor Emmanuel, and Garibaldi. 

The poetry of Robert Browning is seldom melodious and 
seldom easily understood. He appeals only to the highly cult- 
ured, and rarely seems to do his best. His first production 
was Paracelsus (a drama), followed by Bells and Pomegranates., 
a series of poems ; A Blot on the ^Scutcheon, Pippa Passes., Men 
and Women, Dramatis Personce, and The Ping and the Book. 
Among his shorter poems the Bide from Ghent to Aix^'' is a 
masterpiece in action and intensity. 

The poets of this period who held a prominent rank even 
before 1850 are Bryan Waller Procter (" Barry Corn- 
wall "), 1790-1874 ; Eliza Cook, 1817 ; Charles Swain 

("The Manchester Poet"), 1803-1874 ; Mrs. Norton, 1808 

; Richard Monckton Milnes ("Baron Houghton"), 

1809 ; Martin F. Tupper, 1810 ; Charles Mackay, 

1814 ; Charles Kingsley, 1819-1875, poet, novelist, and 

divine, — best known as a novelist ; Philip James Bailey, 

1816 , author of Festiis; Arthur Hugh Clough, 1819- 

1861 ; Frances Brown, 1816 , called sometimes " the blind 

poetess of Ulster. " 

A later class of poets — those known better since 1850 — are 
Matthew Arnold, Gerald Massey, Sydney Dobell, 
William Allingham, Coventry Patmore, Adelaide 
Procter, Lord Lytton ("Owen Meredith"), Jean In- 
GELOw, Aubrey de Yere, William Morris, Dante 
Gabriel Rossetti, Algernon Charles Sw^inburne, E. 
W. GossE, Austin Dobson, Philip Bourke Marston, and 
others, 

Matthew Arnold (1822 ), with the elegant culture of 

a scholar and critic, finds his true realm in criticism. Like 
his father, Dr. Arnold of Rugb}', he has aided the cause of 



THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



349 



education. In 1857 he was elected Professor of Poetry at Ox- 
ford. His works are Poems, Essays on Criticism, etc. Edwiist 
Aristold (1831 ) wrote The Light of Asia. 

Gerald Massey (1828 ■ ) produced in 1854 bis most cele- 
brated work, the Ballad of Babe Ghristahel, and other poems. 

Coventry Patmore (1823 ) is best known by his Angel 

in the House, a poem illustrating the growth of the domestic 
affections. Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1861), daughter 
of Bryan Waller Procter, wrote poems of sorrow that find re- 
sponse in all hearts touched by grief. 

Edward Robert, Lord Lytton (1831 ), son of Lord 

Lytton (Bulwer), under the nom de plume of "Owen Mere- 
dith" has published various poems — Clytemnestra, and Other 
Minor Poems; The Wanderer, a Collection of Poems in Many 
Lands; Lucille, a Novel in Verse; and a translation of the 
national songs of Servia. 

Jean Ingelow (1830 ) was born in Boston, Lincolnshire, 

England. Her poems and prose stories have become popular 
in both continents. 

William Morris (1834 ) is an exquisite story-teller in 

verse. His principal poems are The Life and Death of Jason 
and The Earthly Paradise. 

Algernon Charles Swinburne (1843 ) rose suddenly 

into fame when, in 18(35, he published Atalanta in Calydon. 
This work bespoke genius and poetic feeling. His next, Both- 
well, a tragedy founded on the story of Mary Queen of Scots, 
was marred by voluptuousness, and the poet was denounced 
as loudly as he was at first hailed with pleasure. He has since 
written many poems, among them Erechtheus (1876), and Songs 
of the Sjjring Tides, 1880. 

Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), with the two poets 
last named, are the representatives of the pre-Raphaelite school 
of poetry. Rossetti's poems aim to express the feeling and 
tone of the pre-Raphaelite school of painting. The father, 
Gabriel Rossetti (1783-1854), also a poet, was an Italian by 

birth. Christina Gabriela Rossetti (1830 ), daughter 

of the latter and sister to Dante Gabriel Rossetti, has written, 
besides The Goblin Market and Other Poems, a number of stories 
in prose and in verse. 
30 



350 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



E. W. GossE (1849 ), Austin Dobson (1840 ), and 

Philip Bourke Makstox (1850 ), with others of equal 

merit, have recently appeared as poets and critics. 

Poets of Scotland. 

Scotland will ever be the land of song. Many of her poets 
are so thoroughly identified with the English, and have con- 
tributed so much to the strength and purity of the English 
tongue, that, unless they use the Scottish dialect, we seldom 
think of them as Scotchmen. 

David Macbeth Moir (1798-1851) is known in literature as 
a poet and critic. His first contributions to Blackwood's Maga- 
zine were under the character of the Greek letter Delta. 
Thomas Aird (1802-1876), himself a fine poet and critic, edited 
the works of Moir. William Edmondstone Aytoun (1813- 
1865) made a name in literature by his stirring Lays of the 
Scottish Cavaliers. His next work of importance was Bothv)eU., 
a Poem. He also collected two volumes of Scottish Ballads. 

Egbert Buchanan (1841 ) in his earliest poems gave 

great promise of excellence. Undertones and Idyls of Inver- 
biirn were his first poems. He has since published London 
Poems; Danish Ballads; The Book of Orm, a Prelude to the Epic; 
Napoleon Fallen., a Lyrical Drama; and the Drama of the Kings. 

The popular Drama is barely represented in this period. The 
interest in dramatic performances has in no degree abated, but 
the more cultivated taste of the age asks no better entertain- 
ment than a play of Shakespeare's well performed. Some mod- 
ern dramas, however, have found favor on the stage. Bulwer's 
plays are popular, especially his Richelieu and Lady of Lyons. 

Tom Taylor (1817 ) has perhaps been the most prolific 

playwriter of the time. His best known plays are The Ticket- 
of-Leave Man, Still Waters Run Deep, etc. In her early career 

Mrs. Frances Anne Kemble (1811 ) wrote two dramas, 

Francis the First and The Star of Seville. Gilbert Abbot 
A Becket (1810-1856), author of Comic Histories of England 
and Rome, wrote numerous dramas. Mark I^emon (1809- 
1870), editor of "Punch" from its commencement in 1841 until 
his death, also wrote plays. Charles Shirley Brooks (1815- 



NOVELISTS. 



351 



1874), who succeeded Lemon as editor of Punch, wrote dramas 
and novels. Other later dramatists best known to Americans 

are Dion Boucicault (1822 ) and the melo-draraatists, 

Messrs. W. S. Gilbert ( ) and Arthur S. Sullivan 

(1842 ). Their especial forte is burlesque ; their latest 

attempt. Patience.^ is a burlesque of the degenerate aesthetic 
school of poetry. In these joint plays the melodies are sup- 
plied by Mr. Sullivan. 

Novelists. 

Among the throng of novelists since Scott, the names of four 
stand out as stars of the first magnitude. They were Char- 
lotte Bronte, already mentioned, Dickens, Thackeray, 
and "George Eliot." Yet even without these most illus- 
trious names in fiction, the department of English literature 
would be well represented by Bulwer, Dinah Mulock (Mrs. 
Craik), Charles Eeade, Wilkie Collins, Anthony Trol- 
LOPE, Disraeli, Charles Kingsley, Thomas Hughes, 
Mrs. Gaskell, Mayne Keid, George MacDonald, Mrs. 
Oliphant, Thomas Hardy, William Black, Miss Thack- 
eray^, George Augustus Sala, and innumerable other 
younger writers. 

When the friend of mankind, Charles Dickens (1812-1870), 
passed to his eternal home, the world of humanity mourned. His 
was the warm, genial heart ever beating in unison with the 
joys and sorrows of his fellow-men. He lived in his works. 
The creations of his fanc}^ became to him real men and women. ^ 

His men and women are often exaggerations, showing what 
mankind might be. The very sunshine of happiness seems to 
issue from his heart and to inspire all that it touches. To 
make people happy whether they will be or not, seems to be 
his aim. Thus he symbolizes the happy, sunny spirit in the 
sweet music which the "Golden Locksmith" hammers from 
his anvil : 

" Tink, tink, tink, — clear as a silver bell, and audible at every pause 



* We are told that when he finished the death-scene of " Little Nell," it was all so 
real to him, that he secluded himself from company, mourning for the little child 
whose beautiful, patient liie was ended- 



352 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



of the streets' harsher noises, as though it said, ' I don't care. Nothing 
puts me out. I am resolved to be happy.' Women scolded, children 
squalled, still it struck in again, no higher, no lower, — tink, tink, tink." 

Dickens thoroughl}'- identifies himself with his creations. 
The griefs of "Poor Joe " and " Smike " are all his own. In a 
transport, himself, with the freaks of his fanc}^, he infuses his 
actual spirit into dumb life. The little image of the hay-maker, 
on the top of the Dutch clock, is as animated as the cricket on 
the hearth ; the toys, in "Caleb Plumer's " shop people the dingy 
little room with a curious sort of life. How he loved to portray 
the frolic of the wind ; investing, too, the objects of its chase with 
personality. His exuberant imagination makes him as much 
poet as novelist, while the rhythmic measure of his prose flows 
as delightfully as a poem. But his mission was to the brother- 
hood of the race— to the poor and lowly — rather than to the 
world of song. 

The best part of an earnest man's life is found in his works. 
Still, every sympathizing, intelligent reader feels a desire to 
know something of the actual existence of everj^ writer. 

The brief facts in the life of Charles Dickens are : He was born 
at Landport, in Portsea, England. His childhood was unhappy. 
His father being imprisoned for debt in Marshalsea prison, the 
boy engaged himself in a blacking warehouse. This portion 
of his life he endured as a degradation, feeling that all of his 
young, ambitious hopes were extinguished, in thus being forced 
to mingle with the coarse and ignorant and crafty. From this 
galling life he was rescued, and sent for two years to school. 
At the age of fifteen he w^as placed at an attorney's office in an 
inferior capacity. Soon after he studied short-hand, and be- 
came a reporter in Parliament, — a good discipline for the future 
novelist, enabling him with his quick sj^mpathies and imagi- 
nation to give with vitalized energy the thoughts and feelings 
of the speaker. While he was engaged as reporter for the 
"Morning Chronicle," he one day wrote a stor}'^, and stealthily 
dropped it into the letter-box of the " Old Monthl}^ Magazine." 
It appeared in print, "on which occasion," says he, "I walked 
down to Westminster Hall, and turned into it for half an 
hour, because my eyes were so dimmed with joy." This was 
the beginning of Dickens's literary career. Prom this followed 



NOVELISTS. 



353 



Sketches by Boz, which may, indeed, be considered his first 
work. It was published in 1836. His next work was Pick- 
wick Papers. He then began editing "Bentley's Magazine," 
in which he published Oliver Tioist. The publication of Nich- 
olas Mckleby followed ; then Old Curiosity- Shop and Barnaby 
Budge. 

In 1842 Dickens visited America, publishing, the next year, 
his American Notes and Martin Chuzzlewit. The same year he 
began his famous series of Christmas Stories. These were fol- 
lowed by Bombey and Son and David Copperjield. After the com- 
pletion of David Copperjield^ Dickens established and became 
the editor of " Household Words," which was followed by "All 
the Year Bound." In those two magazines were published, 
Bleak House^ Hard Times, Little Dorrit, A Tale of Two Cities^ 
Great Expectations, Our Mutual Friend, and The Mystery of Ed- 
win Drood. The latter was unfinished when the great author 
died. 

"William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863), though less 
genial than Dickens, is as powerful in his delineations of char- 
acter. He is a keen satirist, unmerciful in his truthfulness, 
when he holds up to ridicule the foibles and weaknesses of 
mankind. In Thackeray's characters we see our own faults 
reflected ; in Dickens's we see our neighbors'. But if Thack- 
eray's satire is severe, his humor is mellowed with kindliness. 
It was for the arrogant and deceitful in fashionable society that 
he kept his blade sharpened. No man was ever more chari- 
table to weakness when unconcealed by deception. 

The family of Thackeray was originally from Yorkshire. 
His father and grandfather had occupied positions in India 
in the employ of the East India Company. Thackeray was 
born in Calcutta, but at the death of his father soon after, 
was taken by his mother to England. He was placed at the 
famous Charter-House School, and afterwards at Cambridge.* 
While here he edited a journal entitled The Snob. Thackeray's 
early- inclination was more towards art than literature. Hap- 
pily he combined them, and with his own sketches illustrated 
several of his later literary works. He first wrote under the 



30- 



* Tennyson was a fellow-student here. 

X 



354 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



nom de plume of " Michael Angelo Titmarsh." His principal 
works under his own name are Vanity Fair, History of Penden- 
nis, Rebecca and Rowena, Henry Esraond, The Newcomes, The 
Virginians, and lectures on The Four Georges. 

In 1860 he started the " Cornhill Magazine," in which were 
publ^hed his Roundabout Papers, also the stories of Lovel the 
Widoioer, and Philip on his Way through the World. 

"George Eliot" (Mrs. Lewes, 1820-1881) was one of the 
most gifted of English novelists. Her maiden name was Mary 
Ann Evans. After the death of Mr. Lewes, who was also a 
writer of great ability, "George Eliot" married Mr. J. 
Cross. By those who knew her intimately, she was highly 
esteemed and loved. Until she was twenty years of age 
she resided in her native place near Nuneaton, Warwick- 
shire. She acquired a wide mastery of the languages, and 
was a proficient in music. Before she was known as a nov- 
ehst, she contributed to various London periodicals. The 
publication of her novel Adam Bede brought her fully into 
public notice. This was followed by Scenes of Clerical Life, The 
Mill on the Floss, Silas Marner, Romola, Felix Holt, The Span^ 
ish Gypsy, a poem ; Middlemarch, Legend of Jiibal, a poem ; 
Daniel Deronda, Impressions of Theophrastus Such. 

Edward Lytton Bulwer (1805-1873) (afterwards Lord 
Lytton) was a versatile writer, classing as novelist, poet, 
dramatist, critic, essayist, and historian. He was known, how- 
ever, as a novelist. His first novel was Falkland. This was fol- 
lowed by Pelham, The Disowned, Devereux, Paul Clifford, and 
Eugene Aram. More scholarly works have since followed : The 
Last Days of Pompeii, Rienzi, The Last of the Barons, The New Ti- 
mon, a poem ; The Caxtons, My Novel, What Will He Do loith 
It, Kenelm Chillingly. The Parisians was published after his 
death. Besides his dramas, Richelieu, Lady of Lyons, and 
Money, he wrote numerous poems, and turned into verse the 
stories of King Arthur. 

The stories of Miss Muloch (Mrs. Craik) (1826 ) are 

invariably high-toned and ennobling. Among the best are John 
Halifax, Gentleman; A Noble Life, A Brave Lady, A Life for a 
Life, Mistress and Maid, etc. Besides miscellaneous works and 
stories for children, Mrs. Craik has written some exquisite poems. 



NOVELISTS. 



355 



Charles Eeade (1814 ) is one of the most popular 

English novelists. Among his works are The Cloister and the 
Hearth (a Tale of the Middle Ages), Lore Me Little Love Me 
Long., Hard Cash., Griffith Gaunt., Put Yourself in His Place., A 
Terrible Temptation^ etc. 

WiLKiE Collins (1824 ) and Anthony Trollope (1815 

1882) have written many novels. Captain Mayne Eeid 
(1818 ), born in Ireland, and passing his time both in Amer- 
ica and England, seems to belong to one country as much as the 
other. In 1845 he obtained a commission in the American 
army, and distinguished himself in the Mexican war. His 
exciting novels of adventurous life are popular with boys. 

Benjamin Disraeli (Lord Beaconsfield) (1804-1880) dis- 
tinguished himself in politics and literature. Before 1833 he 
had produced several works of fiction. In 1870 he wrote 
Lothair. His last novel was L^ndymion^ containing real char- 
acters in a fictitious garb. 

Eev. Charles Kingsley (1819-1875) appeared as a novelist 
with the publication of Alton Locke in 1850, a stor}^ of Chartism. 
This was followed by Yeast., on the same subject. H/patia is 
one of his best-known novels. Westioard Ho! is a story of the 
Elizabethan time. Later, in 1863, he wrote Water Babies, a 
Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. In 1873 he became Canon of 
Westminster. 

Thomas Hughes (1823 ) has entertained thousands of 

readers with his stories of Tom Brown and his devoted com- 
memoration of the revered Dr. Arnold. 

Mrs. Gaskell's (1822-1865) stories of English life have an 
unfading interest. Her Life of Charlotte Bronte is among her 

best works. George MacDonald (1824 ) is a Scotch 

novelist of power. Among his novels are Eobert Falconer., Sea- 
board Parish., Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood, etc. 

Later novelists who have distinguished themselves, and give 
still further promise, are Thomas Ha.Rdy, K. D. Blackmore, 

William Black (1841 ), Augustus George Sala (1828 

), Justin MacCarthy (1830 ), and Miss Thackeray, 

the latter a daughter of the great novelist. 



356 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Philosophy— Writers on Science. 

In no department of literature has there been such rapid 
strides as in the literature of science. Whereas but a few years 
ago the very term literature excluded all works of science as 
technical, to-day it embraces as its greatest ornaments the 
writings of the popular scientists Darwin, Huxley, Tyn- 
DALL, Owen, Wallace, etc. 

The appearance of the Origin of Species in 1859, by Charles 
Darwin (1809-1882), created a new era in the history of sci- 
ence. Although the theories advocated by him in that work 
originated with ancient philosophers, Darwin deserves all the 
credit of originalit3^ He received much ridicule and censure, 
as all do who deviate from accustomed hnes of thought. In 
1871 appeared his Descent of Man, which was even more start- 
ling than his first work. He published numerous other works 
bearing upon the theory of evolution, etc. Thomas Henry 
Huxley (1825 ) is one of the most distinguished natural- 
ists of the age. His principal works are -Man's Place in Nature, 
Classification of Ayiimals, Lay Sermons, etc. 

In conjunction with Professor Huxley, Professor John Tyn- 

DALL (1820 ) wrote Observations on Glaciers. Others of his 

principal works are Heat Considered as a Mode of Motion, On 
Radiation, On Sound, Iraagination in Science, Fragments of Sci- 
ence for Unscientific People, etc. Professor Tyndall has done 
much to popularize the literature of science. 

KiCHARD Owen (1804 ), another prominent scientist, 

has written History of British Fossils, Mammals, and Birds, The 
Anatomy of Vertebrates, etc. 

Mrs. Mary Somerville (1780-1872), who lived to the ad- 
vanced age of ninety-two, was born in Jedburgh, Scotland. 
The reputation of this remarkable woman as a scientist was 
established when, in 1831, she published her Mechanism of the 
Heavens, sl summary of the "Mecanique Celeste" of Laplace. 
She said of her work, "I simply translated Laplace's work 
from algebra into common language." Mrs. Somerville's next 
work was a concise yet comprehensive view of The Connection 
of the Physical Sciences. In 1848 she published her Physical 



PHILOSOPHY— WRITERS ON SCIENCE. 357 



Geography., and eleven years afterwards two volumes on Molec- 
ular and Microscopic Science. 

iSTot even old age excused this active mind from labor^ and 
during the last year of her life Mrs. Somerville wrote her Per- 
sonal Becollections., which was published by her daughter in 
1873. 

Added to a rare genius for science was the rarer genius for 
work. To do something well — to excel — was the lesson her life 
has taught. So completely did she believe in the gospel of 
work, and so marvellously did she order her time,- that without 
fatigue she accomplished her self-assigned duties. With the 
wisest skill in household labors, with no wifely nor motherly 
nor social duties neglected, she pursued her scientific studies. 
Added to this she was a proficient in music, having given five 
hours a day to its practice, until she attained the degree of ex- 
cellence that she demanded for herself. And thus the strength 
of her brain power infused strength and vitality to the body, 
and at the age of ninety-two she died, wishing mainly that she 
might 'Mive to see the distance of the earth from the sun de- 
termined by the transit of Venus — and the source of the Nile 
discovered." 

In astronomical science, the names of Robert Grant 

(1814 ), John Couch Adams (1816 ), Joseph Korman 

LocKYER (1836 ), and Richard A. Procter ( ) 

are prominent. 

Among the original thinkers of the period are James Stuart 

Mill (1806-1873) and Herbert Spencer (1820 ). The 

former has been styled the "apostle of freedom." His best 
•known works are A System of Logic, Principles of Political 
Economy., An Essay on Liberty., Essay on the Subjection of 
Women., etc. Remarkable at an early age for his vast classical 
attainments, and subsequently for his original modes of think- 
ing and clear, penetrating powers of mind, he yet had an 
humble estimate of his own originality. He believed "that 
the part assigned him by nature in the domain of thought 
was to be an interpreter of original thinkers, and mediate 
between them and the public." 

Herbert Spencer is another interpreter of the mind of 
man and of nature's laws, and has made clearer the theory of 



358 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



evolution. Some of his principal works are Principles of 
Psychology, Principles of Biology; Essays, Scientific, Political, 
and Speculative, etc. 

Theologians. 

Among theologians of this period are Dr. Akthuii Pen- 
RHYisr Stanley (1815-1871), Key. Henry Alford (1810- 
1871), Rey. John Cum3iing (1809 ), Key. Thomas Guth- 
rie (1803-1873), Archbishop Trench (1807 ), Arch- 
bishop Manning (1808 ), Rey. Stopford A. Brooke, 

Rey. James Martin eau (1805 ), Rey. J. T. D. Maurice 

(1805-1872), Rey. ^^orman Macleod (1812-1872), Rey. 

Charles H. Spurgeon (1831 ), Rey. Canon F. W. Far- 

RAR ( ), etc. Of these, Dean Alford, Richard Chene- 

vix Trench, Rev. Stopford A. Brooke, and F. W. Farrar have 
also contributed to learning by various studies in English Lan- 
guage and Literature. 

History and Biography. 

For more than half a century the lustre of the three eminent 
historians, Hume, Gibbon, and Robertson, seemed to eclipse 
all minor lights. But the philosophic mind of the nineteenth 
century began to generalize, and to see in isolated events a 
connecting link of causes. History no longer remained a record 
of dry facts and dates, and historians ceased to regard the earth 
as a battle-field merely. Now it is the march of intellect that 
is noted and recorded, the " sweeter manners, purer laws " that 
guard the people. Macaulay did not aim to establish philo- 
sophic theories. He unrolled history as a dazzling panorama 
of events. The new methods of studying history came with a 
later set of writers,— with Buckle and Froude, with Grote 
and KiNGLAKE, Freeman and Green and Lecky. 

The startling generalizations and arguments of Henry 
Thomas Buckle (1822-1862), in his History of Civilization, 
have not been universally received. The work is fascinating, 
and arouses thought, but a lifetime would have been scarcely 
sufficient for the author to complete his vast design in the 
work he had planned. The four volumes published were the 
result of twenty years' labor and study, and he intended to 
write ten volumes more. The History of nationalism in Europe, 



HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 



859 



by William E. H, Lecky (1838 ), classes the author with 

Buckle among the philosophic school of historians. 

A brilliant meteor flashed upon the literary world when 
James Antho^^y Froude's History of England from the Fall of 
Wolsey to the Death of Elizabeth appeared. But imagination is 
a dangerous gift for a historian when its tendency is to exalt 
vice. Alexander W. Kinglake's History of the Crimean 
War is another work read more for its style than its true his- 
toric pictures. Froude (1818 ) and Kinglake (1811 ) 

may be classed among the romantic school of historians. 

The History of Greece, by George Grote (1794-1871), is a 
vitalized picture of that nation. Edward A. Freema?^ (1823 

) is author of various historical works, most important of 

which is The History of the Norman Conquest. John Eichard 
Green invests his work with human interest, and justifies its 
title — The History of the English People. 

Lastly, comes Justin McCarthy, with a History of Our Own 
Times. It requires nice discernment and unbiassed judgment 
to write a just history of one's own times, when feelings and 
prejudices must sway to one side or the other. With peculiar 
poise and uprightness, Justin McCarthy has viewed current 
events, and with no weak, vain excuses for England's follies, 
holds them up in the candid light of truth. 

Among biographers and writers of short historic sketches 

may be named William Hepworth Dixon (1821 ). His 

chief biographies are Life of William Penn, John Howard, Ad- 
miral Blake, and Personal History of Lord Bacon, etc. John 
EoRSTER (1812-1876) wrote The Life of Charles Dickens, Walter 
Savage Landor, Dean Siuift, Oliver Goldsmith, etc. Prof. Dayid 

Masson (1822 ) wrote a valuable Life of John Milton. 

Agnes Strickland (1801-1874) wrote Lives of the Queens of 
England. George Henry Lewes (1817-1878) may be ranked 
as biographer, critic, and philosophical essayist. His Life 
of Goethe and History of Philosophy are his most important 
works. 

John Morley (1838 ) has contributed to English liter- 
ature by his Lives of Eminent English Writers. Prof. Henry 
Morley has also written biographical and critical works. 



360 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Miscellaneous Writers, Essayists, Critics, etc. 

John Ruskin (1819 ) has exerted great influence upon 

literature and art. His first publication was Modern Painters. 
This was followed by The Seven Lamps of Architecture^ Stones 
of Venice, Letters in Defence of the Pre-Bajjhaelites, The Elements 
of Drawing , Lectures on Civilization, Lectures on Art, etc. He 
is the founder of the so-called pre-Raphael school of art. His 
variableness of feeling has sometimes rendered him an unsatis- 
factory critic. In vindication of his habit of contradicting him- 
self, he says : 

" I never met with a question yet which did not need, for the right 
solution of it, at least one positive and one negative answer, like an 
equation of the second degree. Mostly, matters of any consequence 
are three-sided, or four-sided, or polygonal ; and the trotting round a 
polygon is severe work for people any way stiff in their opinions. For 
myself, I am never satisfied that I have handled a subject properly till 
I have contradicted myself at least tljree times." 

Mrs. Anna Jameson (1797-1860) has written innumerable 
esays and criticisms on art. Among them are Characteristics 
of Women, Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad, Legends of 
the Madonna, Memoirs of the Early Italian Painters, etc. 

Harriet Martineau (1802-1876), a sister to James Mar- 
tineau, has contributed to literature in a variety of depart- 
ments. She began writing tracts, or short sketches, and prize 
essays, etc. After publishing some minor works on social 
questions, she wrote Poor Laws and Taxation, Illustrations of 
Political Economy, etc. After a visit to America in 1835, she 
wrote A Retrospect of Western Travel, Society in America, etc. 
Soon after appeared her novel of Deerhrook. This was followed 
by The Hour and the Man, a novel founded on the life of Tous- 
siant L'Ouverture. She then wrote Stories for Children, 
Household Education, and a History of England. In 1848 ap- 
peared Eastern Life, Past and Present. The publication of a 
collection of letters On the Laws of Man^s Nature and Develop- 
ment, which caused extreme dissatisfaction among the friends 
of Miss Martineau. Her next work was a condensed transla- 
tion of Comte'^s Positive Philosophy. 

Max MiiLLER (1823 ), a German by birth, has been for 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE, 361 



more than thirty years identified with English writers, having 
been in 1851 made Professor of Modern Languages at Oxford. 
He has rendered philological subjects popular by his Science of 
Language^ Chips from a German Workslwj), etc. The Right 

Hox. William E. Gladstone, M. P. (1809 ), the Liberal 

leader in English politics, is a devoted Greek scholar. He has 
written Stuclies on Homer and The Homeric Age, Homeric Syn- 
chronism, and a Primer of Homer. Dr. Schliemanjst in 1875 
published Troy and its Bemains, awakening universal interest 
in his recent investigations. Brief studies in biography and 
criticism, and short stories and sketches characterize the age. 
Of these may be mentioned Froude's Short Studies on Great 
Subjects, and his Life of Julius Ccesar; The Essays on Biography 
and Criticism, of Peter Bayne ; New Pictures in Old Panels, 
History of Court Fools, Knights and their Bays, by Dr. DoRAisr 

(1807 ) : Friends in Council, Previa, or Short Fssays, and ' 

various biographical sketches of Sir Arthur Helps (1814- 

1875), and Fssays and Stories by Dr. John Broavn (1810 ), 

the best known of which is Bab and his Friends. 

In the progress of ideas so eminently observable in the nin'e- 
teenth century, it is not alone the march of intellect we see, 
but "the larger heart, the kindlier hand," — the warm human 
feeling that courses through the finer veins of poetry and prose. 
Life and its purposes are regarded more earnestl}^, more hu- 
manely. 'No writers show this more than the greatest writers 
of the age, Tennyson, Mrs. Browning, and Dickens. 

Illustrations of the Literature of the Victorian 
Age. 

TENNYSON. 
From the Prelude to In Memoriam. 

Strong Son of God, immortal Love 

Whom we, that have not seen thy face, 
By faith, and faith alone, embrace, 

Believing where we cannot prove. 

31 



362 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Thou wilt not leave us in the dust ; 
Thou madest man, he knows not why : 
He thinks he was not made to die ; 

And thou hast made him : thou art just. 

Thou seemest human and divine, 
The highest, holiest manhood, thou : 
Our wills are ours, we know not how ; 

Our Avills are ours to make them thine. 

We have but faith : we cannot know ; 

For knowledge is of things we see ; 

And yet we trust it comes from thee 
A beam in darkness; let it grow. 

Let knowledge grow from more to more. 
But more of reverence in us dwell; 
That mind and soul according well. 

May make one music as before. 

But vaster. We are fools and slight; 

We mock thee when Ave do not fear; 

But help thy foolish ones to bear; 
Help thy vain Avorlds to bear thy light. 

Forgive my grief for one removed, 
Thy creature, whom I found so fair. 
I trust he lives in thee, and there 

I find him worthier to be loved. 

Forgive these wild and Avandering cries, 
Confusions of a wasted youth ; 
Forgive them where they fail in truth, 

And in thy wisdom make me wise. 

From In Memoriam. 
A. H. H. 

OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII. 
I. 

I held it truth, with him who sings 
To one clear harp in divers tones, 
That men may rise on stepping-stones 

Of their dead selves to higher things. 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



But who shall so forecast the years 
And find in loss a gain to match? 
Or reach a hand through time to catch 

The far-off interest of tears? 

Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drowned, 
Let darkness keep her raven gloss ; 
Ah sweeter to be drunk with loss, 

To dance with death, to beat the ground. 

Than that the victor Hours should scorn 
The long result of love, and boast, 
"Behold the man that loved and lost. 

But all he was is overworn." 

V. 

I sometimes hold it half a sin 
To put in words the grief I feel ; 
For words, like Nature, half reveal 

And half conceal the Soul within. 

XXVII. 

I hold it true, whate'er befall ; 

I feel it when I sorrow most ; 

'Tis better to have loved and lost, 
Than never to have loved at all. 

LIV. 

O yet we trust that, somehow, good 
Will be the final goal of ill 
To pangs of nature, sins of will, 

Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; 

That nothing walks with aimless feet ; 
That not one life shall be destroyed, 
Or cast as rubbish to the void. 

When God hath made the pile complete; 

That not a worm is cloven in vain. 
That not a moth with vain desire 
Is shrivell'd in a fruitless fire, 

Or but subserves another's gain. 



864 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Behold, we know not anything ; 

I can but trust that good shall fall 
At last — far off— at last, to all, 

And every winter change to spring. 

So runs my dream : but what am I ? 

An infant crying in the night; 

An infant crying for the light; 
And with no language but a cry. 

LXXXII. 

Nor blame I Death, because he bare 
The use of virtue out of earth: 
I know transplanted human worth 

Will bloom to profit otherwhere. 

LXXXV. 

This truth came borne with bier and pall, 
I felt it when I sorrowed most, 
'Tis better to have loved and lost, 

Than never to have loved at all. 

xcvi. 

I know not, one indeed I knew 
In many a subtle question versed, 
Who touch'd a jarring lyre at first, 

But ever strove to make it true : 

Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds. 
At last he beat his music out. 
There lives more faith in honest doubt. 

Believe me, than in half the creeds. 

CIV. 

The time draws near the birth of Christ; 

The moon is hid, the night is still ; 

A single church below the hill 
Is pealing, folded in the mist. 

A single peal of bells below, 

That wakens at this hour of rest 
A single murmur in the breast. 

That these are not the bells I know. 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 865 



Like strangers' voices here they sound, 
In lands where not a memory strays, 
Nor landmark breathes of other days, 

But all is new unhallow'd ground. 

cv. 

To-night, ungathered, let us leave 
This laurel, let this holly stand : 
We live within the strangers' land 

And strangely falls this Christmas eve. 

CVI. 

Eing out, wild bells, to the wild sky, 
The flying cloud, the frosty light : 
The year is dying in the night ; 

Eing out, wild bells, and let him die. 

Eing out the old, ring in the new, 
Eing happy bells across the snow: 
The year is going, let him go : 

Eing out the false, ring in the true. 

Eing out a slowly dying cause. 

And ancient forms of party strife; 
Eing in the nobler modes of life, 

With sweeter manners, purer laws. 

Eing out the want, the care, the sin, 
The faithless coldness of the times ; 
Eing out, ring out my mournful rhymes. 

But ring the fuller minstrel in. 

From the Dedication of the Idylls of the King to the 
Memory of the Queen's Consort, Prince Albert. 

He seems to me 

Scarce other than my own ideal knight,* 
Who reverenced his conscience as his king ; 
Whose glory was, redressing human Avrong ; 
Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it ; 
Who loved one only, and who clave to her — 
Her — over all whose realms to their last isle, 
Commingled with the gloom of imminent war, 



31* 



* King Arthur. 



866 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



The shadow of His loss drew like eclipse, 

Darkening the world. We have lost him: he is gone; 

We know him now: all narrow jealousies 

Are silent ; and we see him as he moved, 

How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise, 

With what sublime repression of himself, 

And in what limits, and how tenderly; 

Not swaying to this faction or to that. 

Not making his high place the lawless perch 

Of wing'd ambitions, nor a vantage-ground 

For pleasure; but through all this tract of years 

Wearing the white flower of a blameless life. 

From Idylls of the King. 
Lancelot and Elaine.* 

His honor rooted in dishonor stood, 

And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true. 

* * -H- * * -j^- * 

So when the ghostly man had come and gone. 

She with a face, bright as for sin forgiven. 

Besought Lavaine to write as she devised 

A letter, word for word ; and when he ask'd, 

" Is it for Lancelot, is it for my dear lord ? 

Then will I bear it gladly ; " she replied, 

" For Lancelot and the Queen, and all the world, 

But I myself must bear it." Then he wrote 

The letter she devised ; which, being writ 

And folded, " O sweet father, tender and true, 

Deny me not," she said, "ye never yet 

Denied my fancies — this, however strange, 

My latest: lay the letter in my hand 

A little ere I die, and close the hand 

Upon it; I shall guard it even in death. 

And when the heat is gone from out my heart, 

Then take the little bed on which I died 

For Lancelot's love, and deck it . like the Queen's 

For richness, and me also like the Queen 



* See original story, page 67. 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



367 



In all I have of rich, and lay me on it. 
And let there be prepared a chariot-bier 
To take me to the river, and a barge 
Be ready on the river, clothed in black. 
I go in state to court, to meet the Queen, 
There surely I shall speak for mine own self, 
And none of you can speak for me so well. 
And therefore let our dumb old man alone 
Go with me ; he can steer and row, and he 
Will guide me to that palace, to the doors." 

Songs from the Princess. 

The splendor falls on castle walls 
And snowy summits old in story ; 

The long light shakes across the lakes, 
And the wild cataract leaps in glory : 

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 

Blow, bugle, answer echoes, dying, dying, dying. 

Oh, hark ! oh, hear ! how thin and clear, 
And thinner, clearer, farther going ! 

Oh, sweet and far, from cliff and scar 
The horns of Elf-land faintly blowing ! 

Blow ! let us hear the purple glens replying, 

Blow, bugle, answer echoes^, dying, dying, dying. 

O love, they die on yon rich sky. 
They faint on hill, on field, on river ; 

Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 
And grow forever and forever. 

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying. 

And answer echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. 



Home they brought her warrior dead : 
She nor swoon' d nor utter' d cry ; 

All her maidens, watching, said, 
" She must weep, or she will die." 

Then they praised him, soft and low, 
Call'd him worthy to be loved. 

Truest friend and noblest foe; 

Yet she neither spoke nor moved. 



368 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, 



Stole a maiden from her place, 

Lightly to the warrior stept, 
Took the face- cloth from his face; 

Yet she neither moved nor wept. 

Rose a nurse of ninety years, 

Set his child npon her knee ; 
Like summer tempest came her tears : — 

" Sweet my child, I live for thee." 

MRS. BROWNING. 

From De Profundis. 
I. 

The face which duly as the sun 
Rose up for me with life begun, 
To mark all bright hours of the day 
With hourly love, is dimmed away, — 
And yet my days go on, go on. 

VI. 

The past rolls forward on the sun. 
And makes all night. O dreams begun 
Not to be ended! Ended bliss, 
And life that will not end in this! 
My days go on, my days go on. 

XXI. 

For us, — whatever 's undergone. 
Thou knowest, wiliest what is done. 
Grief may be joy misunderstood ; 
Only the Good discerns the good. 
I trust thee while my days go on. 

XXII. 

Whatever 's lost, it first was won: 

We will not struggle nor impugn. 

Perhaps the cup was broken here, 

That Heaven's new wine might show more clear. 

I praise thee while my days go on. 

XXIII. 

I praise thee while my days go on ; 
I love thee while my days go on : 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



Througli dark and dearth, through fire and frost, 
With emptied arms and treasure lost, 
I thank thee while my days go on. 

XXIV. 

And having in thy life-depth thrown 
Being and sufiering (which are one), 
As a child drops his pebble small 
Down some deep well, and hears it fall, 
Smiling— so I. Thy days go on. 

From CowPER's Graye. 

It is a place where poets crowned 

May feel the heart's decaying — 
It is a place where happy saints 

May weep amid their praying — 
Yet let the grief and humbleness, 

As low as silence languish ; 
Earth surely now may give her calm 

To whom she gave her anguish. 

O poets! from a maniac's tongue 

Was poured the deathless singing ! 
O Christians! at your cross of hope 

A hopeless hand was clinging ! 
O men ! this man in brotherhood, 

Your weary paths beguiling, 
Groaned inly while he taught you peace. 

And died while ye were smiling. 

And now, what time ye all may read 

Through dimming tears his story — 
How discord on the music fell. 

And darkness on the glory — 
And how, when, one by one, sweet sounds 

And wandering lights departed, 
He wore no less a loving face. 

Because so broken-hearted. 

He shall be strong to sanctify 

The poet's high vocation. 
And bow the meekest Christian down 

In meeker adoration ; 

Y 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Nor ever shall he be in praise 

By wise or good forsaken ; 
Named softly as the household name 

Of one whom God hath taken ! 

With sadness that is calm, not gloom, 

I learn to think upon him ; 
With meekness that is gratefulness. 

On God, whose heaven hath won him. 
Who suffered once the madness-cloud 

Towards his love to bind him ; 
But gently led the blind along, 

Where breath and bird could find him 

And wrought within his shattered brain 

Such quick poetic senses, 
As hills have language for, and stars 

Harmonious influences ! 
The pulse of dew upon the grass 

His own did calmly number ; 
And silent shadow from the trees 

Fell o'er him like a slumber. 

The very world, by God's constraint, 

From falsehood's chill removing, 
Its women and its men became 

Beside him true and loving ! 
And timid hares were drawn from woods 

To share his home-caresses, 
Uplooking in his human eyes, 

With sylvan tendernesses. 

But while in darkness he remained. 

Unconscious of the guiding, 
And things provided came without 

The sweet sense of providing, 
He testified this solemn truth, 

Though frenzy desolated — 
Nor man nor nature satisfy 

Whom only God created. 

From A Yisiox of Poets. 
A poet could not sleep aright, 
For his soul kept up too much light 
Under his eyelids for the night. 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



* -H- -X- * -H- 

God's prophets of the Beautiful 
These poets were: .... 

Here Homer, with the broad suspense 
Of thunderous brows, and lips intense 
Of garrulous god-innocence. 

There, Shakespeare ! on whose forehead climb 
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime, — 
With tears and laughters for all time ! . . . . 

Here, Milton's eyes strike piercing-dim: 
The shapes of suns and stars did swim 
Like clouds from them, and granted him 

God for sole vision. . . . 

-X- -if * * * 

And Burns, with pungent passionings 
Set in his eyes. Deep lyric springs 
Are of the fire-mount's issuing. 

And Shelley, in his white ideal 

All statue blind. And Keats, the real 

Adonis, with the hymeneal 

Fresh vernal buds half sunk between 

His youthful curls. . . . 

And poor, proud Byron, — sad as grave. 
And salt as life : forlornly brave, 
And quivering with the dart he drave. 
And visionary Coleridge, who 
Did sweep his thoughts as angels do 
Their wings with cadence up the Blue. 

From A Musical Instrumekt. 
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan ! 

Piercing sweet by the river ! 
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan ! 
The sun on the hill forgot to die. 
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly 

Came back to dream on the river. 

From Aurora Leigh. 

I was right upon the whole, 
That birthday morning. 'Tis impossible 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



To get at men excepting through their souls, 

However open their carnivorous jaws; 

And poets get directlier at the soul 

Than any of your oeconomists : — for which, 

You must not overlook the poet's work 

When scheming for the world's necessities. 

The soul's the way. Not even Christ Himself 

Can save man else than as. He holds man's soul : 

And therefore did He come into our flesh, 

As some wise hunter creeping on his knees 

With a torch, into the blackness of some cave, 

To face and quell the beast there, — take the soul. 

And so possess the whole man, body and soul. 

. . . . Verily, I was wrong; 

And verily, many thinkers of this age, 

Ay, many Christian teachers, half in heaven, 

Are wrong in just my sense, who understood 

Our natural world too insularly, as if 

No spiritual counterpart completed it, 

Consummating its meaning, rounding all 

To justice and perfection, line by line, — 

Form by form, nothing single nor alone, — 

The great below clench'd by the great above; 

Shade here authenticating substance there; 

The body proving spirit, as the effect 

The cause. 



" Be sure, no earnest work 
Of any honest creature, howbeit weak. 
Imperfect, ill-adapted, fails so much. 
It is not gathered as a grain of . sand 
To enlarge the sum of human action used 
For carrying out God's end. No creature works- 
So ill, observe, that therefore he 's cashiered. 
The honest earnest man must stand and work; 
The woman also ; otherwise she drops 
At once below the dignity of man. 
Accepting serfdom. Free men freely work: 
Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease. 
.... Let us be content, in work, 
To do the thing we can, and not presume 
To fret because it's little." 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



ROBERT BROWNING". 

From PIPPA Passes. 
If I only knew 

What was my mother's face ; — my father, too ! 
Nay, if you come to that, best love of all 
Is God's; then why not have God's love befall 
Myself as, in the palace by the Dome, 
Monsignor? — who to-night will bless the home 
Of his dead brother; and God will bless in turn 
That heart which beats, those eyes which mildly burn 
With love for all men: I, to-night, at least, 
Would be that holy and beloved priest ! 
Now wait! Even I already seem to share 
In God's love : what does New Year's hymn declare ? 
What other meaning do these verses bear? 

All service ranks the same with God: 
If now, as formerly, He trod 
Paradise, His presence fills , 
Our earth, each 07ily as God wills, 
Can work, — God's puppets best and worst 
Are we ; there is no last nor first. 

Say not "a small event'' / Why "small"? 
Costs it more pain than this, ye call 
A "great event" should come to pass, 
Than that? Untwine me from the mass 
Of deeds which make up life, one deed 
Power shall fall short in, or exceed ! 

And more of it and more of it ! oh, yes — 
I will pass by, and see their happiness, 
And envy none — being just as great, no doubt, 
Useful to men, and dear to God, as they ! 

A pretty thing to care about 
So mightily, this single holiday! 

But let the sun shine! Wherefore repine? 
With thee to lead me, O Day of mine, 
Down the grass-path gray with dew, 
Under the pine-wood blind with boughs, 

Where the swallow never flew 
As yet, nor cicale dared carouse — 
Dared carouse! 



374 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, 



From Garden Fancies. 

"Here's the garden she walked across, 

Arm in my arm, such a short while since: 
Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss 

Hinders the hinges and makes them wince ! 
She must have reached this shrub ere she turned, 

As back with that murmur the wicket swung; 
For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned, 

To feed and forget it the leaves among. 

" This flower she stopped at, finger on lip. 

Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim ; 
Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip, 

Its soft meandering Spanish name. 
What a name ! was it love, or praise, 

Speech half-asleep, or song half-awake ? 
I must learn Spanish, one of these days, 

Only for that slow sweet name's sake." 

BRYAN WALLER PROCTER— - Barry Cornwall." 

The Stormy Petrel. 

A thousand miles from land are we. 

Tossing about on the roaring sea; 

From billow to bounding billow cast, 

Like fleecy snow on the stormy blast : 

The sails are scatter'd abroad like weeds, 

The strong masts shake like quivering reeds, 

The mighty cables, and iron chains, 

The hull, which all earthly strength disdains, 

They strain and they crack, and hearts like stone 

Their natural hard, proud strength disown. 

Up and down ! Up and down ! 
From the base of the wave to the billow's crown, 
And amid the flashing and feathery foam 
The stormy Petrel finds a home, — 
A home, if such a place may be 
For her who lives on the wide, wide sea, 
On the craggy ice, in the frozen air, 
And only seeketh her rocky lair 
To warm her young, and to teach them spring 
At once o'er the waves on their stormy wing! 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



375 



O'er the deep ! O'er the deep ! 
Where the whale and the shark and the sword-fish sleep, 
Outfl}dng the blast and the driving rain, 
The Petrel telleth her tale — in vain ; 
For the mariner curseth the warning bird 
Who bringeth him news of the storms unheard ! 
Ah ! thus does the prophet, of good or ill, 
Meet hate from the creatures he serveth still ! 
Yet he ne'er falters : — So, Petrel ! spring 
Once more o'er the waves on thy stormy wing ! 

BARON HOUGHTON— " Richard Monckton Milnes." 

The Brookside. 
I wander' d by the brookside, 

I wander'd by the mill, — 
I could not hear the brook flow. 

The noisy wheel was still ; 
There was no burr of grasshopper, 

Nor chirp of any bird ; 
But the beating of my OAvn heart 

Was all the sound I heard. 

I sat beneath the elm-tree, 

I watch' d the long, long shade, 
And as it grew still longer, 

I did not feel afraid ; 
For I listen' d for a footfall, ' 

I listen' d for a word, — 
But the beating of my own heart 

Was all the sound I heard. 

He came not,— no, he came not, — 

The night came on alone, — 
The little stars sat, one by one. 

Each on his golden throne ; 
The evening air pass'd by my cheek, 

The leaves above were stirr'd, — 
But the beating of my own heart 

Was all the sound I heard. 

Fast silent tears were flowing, 
When something stood behind, — 

A hand was on my shoulder, 
I knew its touch was kind : 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 

It drew me nearer, — nearer, — 
We did not speak one word, 

For the beating of our own hearts 
Was all the sound we heard. 

ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. 

Strive, Wait, and Pray. 
Strive ; yet I do not promise. 

The prize you dream of to-day. 
Will not fade when you think to grasp it, 

And melt in your hand away; 
But another and holier treasure, 

You would now perchance disdain, 
Will come when your toil is over, 

And pay you for all your pain. 

Wait; yet I do not tell you. 

The hour you long for now, 
Will not come with its radiance vanished, 

And a shadow upon its brow ; 
Yet far through the misty future, 

With a crown of starry light, 
An hour of joy you know not 

Is winging her silent flight. 

Pray; though the gift you ask for 

May never comfort your fears, 
May never repay your pleadings. 

Yet pray, and with hopeful tears ; 
An answer, not that you long for, 

But diviner, will come one day ; 
Your eyes are too dim to see it, 

Yet strive, and wait, and pray. 

From Friejtd Sorrow. 
" Cheat her not with the old comfort, 
' Soon she will forget,' — 
Bitter truth, alas, — but matter 

Eather for regret; 
Bid her not 'Seek other pleasures, 

Turn to other things : ' 
But rather nurse her caged sorrow 
Till the captive sings." 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



CHARLES KINGSLEY. 

A Farewell. 
My fairest child, I have no song to give you ; 

No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray; 
Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you 
For every day. 

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; 

Do noble things, not di-eam them, all day long ; 
And so make life, death, and that vast forever, 
One grand, sweet song. 

"OWEN MEREDITH." 
From Lucille. 

"The dial 

Receives many shades, and each points to the sun. 
The shadows are many, the sunlight is one. 
Life's sorrows still fluctuate : God's love does not, 
And his love is unchanged, when it changes our lot. 
Looking up to this light, which is common to all, 
And down to those shadoAVS, on each side, that fall 
In time's silent circle, so various for each, 
Is it nothing to know that they never can reach 
So far, but that light lies beyond them forever ? " 

MATTHEW ARNOLD. 

Trom The Forsaken Merman. 

" Down, down, down, 

Down to the depths of the sea. 
She sits at her wheel in the humming town, 
Singing most joyfully. 
Hark, what she sings, ' O joy, O joy, 
For the humming street, and the child with its toy. 
For the priest and the bell, and the holy well, 
For the wheel where I spun, 
And the blessed light of the sun.' 
And so she sings her fill. 
Singing most joyfully. 
Till the shuttle falls from her hand. 
And the whizzing wheel stands still. 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



She steals to the window, and looks at the sand; 

And over the sand at the sea; 

And her eyes are set in a stare; 

And anon there breaks a sigh, 

And anon there drops a tear. 

From a sorrow-clouded eye. 

And a heart sorrow-laden, 
A long, long sigh. 
For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden, 
And the gleam of her golden hair." 

PHILIP JAMES BAILEY. 

From Festus. 
"Life's more than breath and the quick round of blood; 
It's a great spirit and a busy heart. 
The coward and the small in soul scarce do live. 
One generous feeling — one great thought — one deed 
Of good, ere night, would make life longer seem 
Than if each year might number a thousand days, — 
Spent as is this by nations of mankind. 
We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; 
In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives 
Who thinks most — feels the noblest— acts the best. 
Life's but a means unto an end — that end. 
Beginning, mean, and end to all things — God." 

ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE. 

From Chorus in Atalanta in Calydon". 

Before the beginning of years 

There came to the making of man 
Time with a gift of tears; 

Grief with a glass that ran ; 
Pleasure with pain for leaven; 

Summer with flowers that fell; 
Kemembrance fallen from Heaven, 

And madness risen from Hell; 
Strength without hands to smite; 

Love that endures for a breath; 
Night the shadow of light. 

And Life the shadow of death. 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



379 



CHARLES DICKENS. 

From KiCHOLAS Kickleby. 

" It is a sad thing," said Tim Linkinwater, breaking off, " to see a 
little deformed child sitting apart from other children, who are active 
and merry, watching the games he is denied the power to share in. He 
made my heart ache very often." 

" It is a good heart," said Nicholas, " that disentangles itself from the 
close avocations of every day, to heed such things. You were saying " 

" That the flowers belonged to this poor boy," said Tim ; " that 's all. 
When it is fine weather, and he can crawl out of bed, he draws a chair 
close to the window, and sits there looking at them and arranging them 
all day long. We used to nod at first, and then we came to speak. 
Formerly, when I called to him of a morning, and asked him how he 
was, he would smile and say, ' Better ; ' but now he shakes his head, and 
only bends more closely over his old plants. It must be dull to watch 
the dark house-tops and the flying clouds for so many months ; but he 
is very patient." 

" Is there nobody in the house to cheer or help him ? " asked Nicho- 
las. 

" His father lives there, I believe," replied Tim, " and other people 
too ; but no one seems to care much for the poor sickly cripple. I have 
asked him very often if I can do nothing for him : his answer is always 
the same, — ' Nothing.' His voice has grown weak of late ; but I can 
see that he makes the old reply. He can't leave his bed now, so they 
have moved it close beside the window ; and there he lies all day, now 
looking at the sky, and now at his flow^ers, which he still makes shift to 
trim and water with his own thin hands. At night, when he sees my 
candle, he draws back his curtain, and leaves it so till I am in bed. It 
seems such company to him to know that I am there, that I often sit at 
my window for an hour or more, that he may see I am still awake ; and 
sometimes I get up in the night to look at the dull, melancholy light in 
his little room, and wonder whether he is awake or sleeping. 

" The night will not be long coming," said Tim, " when he will sleep 
and never wake again on earth. We have never so much as shaken 
hands in all our lives ; and yet I shall miss him like an old friend. Are 
there any country flowers that could interest me like these, do you think?" 

With which inquiry, Tim turned his back, and, pretending to be 
absorbed in his accounts, took an opportunity of hastily wiping his 
eyes, when he supposed Nicholas was looking another way. 



380 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



From Christmas Stories (The Chimes). 

The night-wind has a dismal trick of wandering round and round a 
building of that sort, and moaning as it goes ; and of trying with its 
unseen hand the windows and the doors ; and when it has got in, as one 
not finding what it seeks, whatever that may be, it wails and howls to 
issue forth again ; and not content vrith stalking through the aisles, and 
gliding round and round the pillars, and tempting the deep organ, soars 
up to the roof, and strives to rend the rafters : then flings itself despair- 
ingly upon the stones below, and passes, muttering, into the vaults. 
Anon, it comes up stealthily, and creeps along the walls, seeming to 
read, in whispers, the inscriptions sacred to the dead. At some of these 
it bursts out shrilly, as with laughter ; and at others it moans and cries 
as if lamenting. Ugh ! Heaven preserve us, sitting snugly round the 
fire! It has an awful voice, that wind at midnight, singing in the 
church ! 

For my part, I confess myself of Toby Veck's belief. I take my 
stand by Toby, although he did stand all day long (and weary Avork it 
was) just outside the church door. In fact, he was a ticket-porter, Toby 
Veck, and waited there for jobs. . . . The wind came tearing round 
the corner, — especially the east wind, — as if it had sallied forth, express, 
from the confines of the earth, to have a blow at Toby. And oftentimes 
it seemed to come upon him sooner than it had expected, for bouncing 
round the corner, and passing Toby, it would suddenly wheel round 
again, as if it said, " Why here he is." 

"There's nothing," said Toby, "more regular in its coming round 
than dinner-time, and nothing less regular in its coming round than 
dinner. That 's the great difference between 'em." 

" Why, bless you, my dear," said Toby, " how often have I heard them 
bells say, ' Toby Veck, Toby Veck, keep a good heart, Toby ! Toby Veck, 
Toby Veck, keep a good heart, Toby ! ' 

"When things is very bad, very bad indeed, I mean; almost at the 
worst ; then it's ' Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby ! ' That 
way." 

" And it comes at last, father," said Meg, with a touch of sadness in 
her pleasant voice. 

" Always," answered Toby. " Never fails." 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 881 



From DoMBEY and Son. 

" Now lay me down," he said ; " and, Floy, come close to me and let 
me see you ! " Sister and brother wound their arms around each other, 
and the golden light came streaming in and fell upon them, locked 
together. " How fast the river runs between its green banks and the 
rushes, Floy ! But it 's very near the sea. I hear the waves ! They 
always said so." Presently he told her that the motion of the boat 
upon the stream was lulling him to rest. How green the banks were 
now ! how bright the flowers growing on them ! and how tall the 
rushes ! Now the boat was out at sea, but gliding smoothly on ; and 
now there was a shore before them. Who stood on the bank ? He put 
his hands together, as he had been used to do at his prayers. He did 
not remove his arms to do it ; but they saw him fold them so, behind 
her neck. " Mamma is like you, Floy : I know her by her face ! But 
tell them that the print upon the stairs at school is not divine enough. 
The light about the head is shining on me as I go ! " 

The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else 
stirred in the room. The old, old fashion ! The fashion that came in 
with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run 
its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, 
old fashion, — Death ! Oh, thank God, all who see it, for that older 
fashion yet, of Immortality ! And look upon us, angels of young chil- 
dren, with regards not quite estranged when the swift river bears us to 
the ocean ! 

THACKERAY. 

Last Days of George III. 
All the world knows the story of his malady ; all history presents 
no sadder figure than that of the old man, blind and deprived of reason, 
wandering through the rooms of his palace, addressing imaginary Par- 
liaments, reviewing fancied troops, holding ghostly courts. I have seen 
his picture as it was taken at this time, hanging in the apartment of his 
daughter, the Landgravine of Hesse-Hombourg, — amidst books and 
Windsor furniture, and a hundred fond reminiscences of her English 
home. The poor old father is represented in a purple gown, his snowy 
beard falling over his breast, — the star of his famous Order still idly 
shining on it. He was not only sightless — he became utterly deaf. All 
light, all reason, all sound of human voices, all the pleasures of this 
world of God, were taken from him. Some slight lucid moments he 
had ; in one of which the queen, desiring to see him, entered the room, 
and found him singing a hymn and accompanying himself at the harp- 



882 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



sichord. When he had finished, he knelt down and prayed aloud for 
her, and then for his family, and then for the nation, concluding with 
a prayer for himself, that it might please God to avert his heavy calam- 
ity from him, but, if not, to give him resignation to submit. He then 
burst into tears, and his reason again fled. 

What preacher need moralize on this story? what words save the 
simplest are requisite to tell it? It is too terrible for tears. The 
thought of such a misery smites me down in submission before the 
Ruler of kings and men, the Monarch Supreme over empires and re- 
publics, the inscrutable Dispenser of life, death, happiness, victory. 
" O brothers ! " I said to those who heard me first in America, — O 
brothers ! speaking the same dear mother tongue ; O comrades ! ene- 
mies no more, let us take a mournful hand together as we stand by this 
royal corpse, and call a truce to battle! Low he lies to whom the 
proudest used to kneel once, and who was cast lower than the poorest : 
dead, whom millions prayed for in vain. Driven off his throne ; buf- 
feted by rude hands ; with his children in revolt ; the darling of his 
old age killed before him untimely ; our Lear hangs over her breath- 
less lips, and cries, ' Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little ! ' 

'Vex not his ghost — oh! let him pass — he hates him 
That would upon the rack of this tough world 
Stretch him out longer ! ' 

Hush ! Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave ! Sound, Trumpets, 
a mournful march ! Fall, Dark Curtain, upon his pageant, his pride, 
his grief, his awful tragedy ! " 

"GEORGE ELIOT." 

Passages from Adam Bede, Middlemarch, etc. 

As for other things, I dare say she is like the rest o' the women — 
thinks two and two '11 come to five, if she cries and bothers enough 
about it," said Bartle. 

" Ay, ay ! " said Mrs. Poyser, " one 'ud think an' hear some folk 
talk, as the men was 'cute enough to count the corns in a bag o' wheat 
wi' only smelling at it. They can see through a barn-door, they can. 
Perhaps that 's the reason they can see so little o' this side on 't." 

" Ah," said Bartle, sneeringly, " the women are quick enough — 
they 're quick enough. They know the rights of a story before they 
hear it, and can tell a man what his thoughts are before he knows 
'em himself," 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



383 



" Like enough," said Mrs. Poyser ; " for the men are mostly so slow 
their thoughts overrun 'em, an' they can only catch 'em by the tail. I 
can count a stocking-top while a man 's getting 's tongue ready ; an' 
when he out wi' his speech at last, there 's little broth to be made on 't. 
It's your dead chicks take the longest hatchin'. Howiver, I'm not 
deny in' the women are foolish ; God Almighty made 'em to match the 
men." 



Comprehensive talkers are apt to be tiresome when we are not athirst 
for information ; but, to be quite fair, we must admit that superior reti- 
cence is a good deal due to lack of matter. Speech is often barren ; 
but silence also does not necessarily brood over a full nest. Your still 
fowl, blinking at you without remark, may all the while be sitting on 
one addled nest-egg. And when it takes to cackling, will have nothing 
to announce but that addled delusion. 



Many Theresas have been born who found for themselves no epic 
life wherein there was a constant unfolding of far-resonant action ; per- 
haps only a life of mistakes, the offspring of a certain spiritual grandeur 
ill-matched with the meanness of opportunity ; perhaps a tragic failure 
which found no sacred poet, and sank unwept into oblivion. With dim 
lights and tangled circumstances, they tried to shape their thought and 
deed in noble agreement ; but, after all, to common eyes their struggles 
seemed mere inconsistency and formlessness. 

MRS. ORAIK— Miss Muloch. 
rrom A Woman's Thoughts about Women. 
A finished life — a life which has made the best of all the materials 
granted to it, and through which, be its web dark or bright, its pattern 
clear or clouded, can now be traced plainly the hand of the Great De- 
signer, — surely, this is worth living for ? And though at its end it may 
be somewhat lonely ; though a servant's and not a daughter's arm may 
guide the failing step ; though most likely it will be strangers only who 
come about the dying bed, close the eyes that no husband ever kissed, 
and draw the shroud kindly over the poor withered breast where no 
child's head has ever lain ; still, such a life is not to be pitied, for it is 
a completed life. It has fulfilled its appointed course, and returns to 
the Giver of all breath, pure as He gave it. Nor will He forget it 
when He counteth up his jewels. 



384 



HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Now AND Afterwards. 

" ' Two hands upon the breast, 
And labor 's done ; 
Two pale feet crossed in rest — 

The race is won ; 
Two eyes with coin-weights shut, 

And all tears cease; 
Two lips where grief is mute, 
Anger at peace ; ' — 
So pray we oftentimes, mourning our lot ; 
God in his kindness answereth not. 

" ' Two hands to work addrest. 
Aye for his praise ; 
Two feet that never rest 

Walking his ways ; 
Two eyes that look above 
Through all their tears; 
Two lips still breathing love, 
Not wrath, nor fears ; ' 
So pray we afterwards, low on our knees ; 
Pardon those erring prayers ! Father, hear these ! " 

GEORGE MACDONALD. 

rrom KoBERT Falconer. 

" Eh ! you were a bonny lass when I married you. But gin I were 
up, see gin I wadna gie ye a new goon, an' that wad be something to 
make ye like yersel' again. I 'm affronted wi' mysel' 'at I hae been sic 
a brute o' a man to ye. But ye maun forgie me noo ; for I do belien 
i' my hert 'at the Lord 's forgi'en me. Gie me anither kiss, lass. God 
be praised, and many thanks to you. Ye micht hae run awa frae me 
long or noo, an' a body wad hae said ye did richt. Robert, play a 
spring." 

"What '11 I play then, Sandy ?" asked Robert. 

"Play 'The Lan' o' the Leal/ or 'My Nannie's Awa',' or something 
o' that kin'. I'll be leal to ye noo, Bell. An' we winna pree o' the 
whiskey nae mair, lass." 

Robert struck in Avith the "Land o' the Leal." When he had played 
it over two or three times, he laid the fiddle in its place and departed. 
Bell sat on the bedside, stroking the rosiny hand of her husband, the 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 



385 



rhinoceros hide of which was yet delicate enough to let the love 
through to his heart. After this, the soutar never called his fiddle his 
auld wife. 

From Seaboard Parish. 

What God may hereafter require of you, you must not give yourself 
the least trouble about. Everything He gives you to do, you must do 
as well as you can, and that is the best possible preparation for what He 
may want you to do next. If people would but do what they have to 
do, they would always find themselves ready for what came next. And 
I do not believe that those who follow this rule are ever left flounder- 
ing on the sea-deserted sands of inaction, unable to find water enough 
to swim in. 

PROFESSOR HUXLEY. 

Men of science do not pledge themselves to creeds ; they are bound 
by articles of no sort ; there is not a single belief that it is not a bounden 
duty with them to hold with a light hand, and to part with it cheer- 
fully the moment it is really proved to be contrary to any fact, great or 
small. 

PROFESSOR TYNDALL. 

From Address Delivered at Belfast m 1874. 

The rigidity of old conceptions has been relaxed, the public mind 
being rendered gradually tolerant of the idea that not for six thousand, 
nor for sixty thousand, nor for six thousand thousand, but for seons 
embracing untold millions of years, this earth has been the theatre of 
life and death. The riddle of the rocks has been read by the geologist 
and palaeontologist, from sub-cambrian depths to the deposits thickening 
over the sea-bottoms of to-day. And upon the leaves of that stone book 
are, as you know, stamped the characters plainer and surer than those 
formed by the ink of history. 

CANON FARRAR. 

From a Discourse on the Unyeilin'g of the Raleigh 
Window, May 14, 1882. 

Our lives would be better, our thoughts nobler, our hearts larger, our 
faith more real, our words more charitable, if we would, once for all, 
learn the lesson of the Law and the Prophets, which is not to glide 
along the razor's edge of scholastic dogmas, nor to wear formulas thread- 
bare by conventional iteration, but to love God, and to do good to our 
33 Z 



386 HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



neighbor. Which is best, to diffuse the grandeur and sacredness of 
faith over the whole of daily life, or to regard all but a fraction of life 
as irredeemably secular? Which is best, to specialize Sundays with 
servile rigorism, or to diffuse the spirit of Sunday over days which we 
too often devote to meanness and Mammon ? Which is best, to surround 
places, gestures, garments with a mechanical sanctity, or by holy lives 
to make the floor of a cottage as sacred as the rocks of Sinai, and the 
commonest events hallowed as the rounds of the ladder on which the 
angels trod ? 

Syllabus. 

Queen Victoria ascended the throne in 1837. 

There has been a perceptible change in popular literature within the last 
fifty years. 

Prose literature is more in demand than poetry. 

Poetry, the highest form of human expression, does not necessarily 
decline as civilization advances. 

There have been fashions — freaks — in both prose and poetry. The Eu- 
phuism of Elizabeth's time is an example, the rhymed couplet of Dry- 
den's and Pope's time, the pre-Eaphaelite aesthetic school of the present, 
etc. 

Among the Victorian poets, Tennyson, Mrs. Browning, and Eobert 
Browning hold highest rank. 

Other poets of this period, popular before 1850, are Bryan Waller Proc- 
ter ("Barry Cornwall"), Eliza Cook, Mrs. Norton, R. M. Milnes, Charles 
Swain, Charles Mackay, Charles Kingsley, etc. 

Those who have become more prominent since 1850 are Matthew Arnold, 
Edwin Arnold, Gerald Massey, Coventry Patmore, Adelaide Anne Procter, 
Lord Lytton (" Owen Meredith "), Jean Ingelow, William Morris, Eossetti, 
and Swinburne. Writers still later are E. W. Gosse, Austin Dobson, and 
Philip Bourke Marston. 

Scottish poets of the time are David Macbeth Moir, Thomas Aird, Wil- 
liam Edmondstone Aytoun, Robert Buchanan. 

The Novel has taken the place of the Drama. 

Four novelists since Sir Walter Scott stand out with especial prominence 
— Charlotte Bronte, Dickens, Thackeray, and " George Eliot." 

Other novelists, some of whom might rank as high, are Bulwer, Mrs. 
Craik, Charles Reade, George MacDonald, William Black, Miss Thackeray. 

With the publication of Darwin's Origin of the Species, 1859, a new era 
in the literature of science began. 

Scientists besides Darwin are Huxley, Tyndall, Owen, Wallace, etc. 



LITERATURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 387 



James Stuart Mill and Herbert Spencer are prominent philosophical 
writers. 

Theologians of the time are Dean Stanley, Dean Alford, Archbishop 
Trench, Archbishop Manning, J. T. D. Maurice, Norman Macleod, James 
Martineau, F. W. Farrar. 

Later historians of the nineteenth century treat history in a more philo- 
sophical manner than the earlier historians. 

Buckle and Lecky are philosophic historians. 

Froude and Kinglake belong rather to the romantic school of historians. 
Grote wrote a history of Greece. 

Freeman, Green, and Justin McCarthy are late historians of England. 

Among biographers are William Hepworth Dixon, John Forster, David 
Masson, Agnes Strickland, George Henry Lewes. 

Among miscellaneous writers are John Euskin, Mrs. Jameson, Harriet 
Martineau, Gladstone, and others. 




CHAPTER XIV. 



American Literature. 

The First or Colonial Period. 

1620-1775, 

AMERICAN Literature, unlike that of any other nation, 
has no traditional ancestry. No mythical heroes and 
demi-gods overshadow its far beginnings. No epic poem, with 
the feats of fabulous heroes, has come down to us as an inheri- 
tance from American ancestors. All is clear, definite, and 
sharply outlined. We have a history, but no traditions. It is 
the fast-decaying aborigines who have their legendary Hia- 
watha, Mudgekeewis, Minnehaha, and Nokomis. The English 
tongue on American soil has given utterance to the beautiful 
Indian legend. The only myths and traditions that we can 
claim had their origin in the earliest English tongue, in the 
earliest home of the English people. Ours is the old poem of 
Beowulf^ sung more than a thousand years ago in Angle-land 
and Saxe-land, and afterwards repeated by our Anglo-Saxon 
forefathers in England, the home of their adoption. Every 
other nation has had its early epic, or early lyrical or allegori- 
cal poem. But noble lives are grander than epic poems, and 
the deeds of a valiant ancestry are more glorious than their 
written thoughts. 

Theology and not mythology occupied the minds of our Ameri- 
can forefathers, and our literary inheritance from them is prose. 
Religious persecution having driven to the unprejudiced shores 

388 



AMERICAN COLONIAL PERIOD. 



389 



of this wild country those who found no freedom at home to 
worship God as they found fitting, reUgion must of necessity 
be the theme of their discourse, spoken or written. 

But theology was a germ transplanted and scarcely modified 
or affected by the new soil. The literature became American 
when thoughts and feelings became American — when thoughts 
of independence sprang into American hearts, and the great 
principles of civil government and liberty were discussed. 

Engrossed as our ancestors were in the one subject that drove 
them from their native shore, they gave thought and time to 
the future needs of the young republic, and early began to 
build schools and colleges. Almost before the wilderness be- 
came to them a home. Harvard College was endowed, and 
before 1767 no less than seven colleges had sprung into exist- 
ence. The first printing-press in America was at Harvard Col- 
lege. The first book printed in America was the Bay Psalm 
Book, Cambridge, 1640. 

It will be interesting to the student who has carefully followed 
these pages to recall contemporary incidents and characters in 
the mother country,— to remember that while the germ of 
freedom was springing up on American soil, the apostle of free- 
dom, John Milton, was wielding his pen in its behalf in Eng- 
land, — that with the establishment of the first printing-press in 
America, Milton was pleading for the liberty of the press."^ 

Among the prominent names in the Colonial theological lit- 
erature were JoH^r Cotton, Eoger Williams, Thomas 
Hooper, Samuel Stone, John Eliot, and Increase and 
Cotton Mather. 

Rev. John Cotton (1585-1652) wrote Milk for Babes, Meat 
for Strong Men. The former was a catechism in the elements 
of Christian doctrine, and was intended for the use of children. 
It was printed in the " New England Primer. " With John Cot- 
ton originated the custom in New England of beginning the Sab- 
bath on Saturday evening. 

Eoger Williams (1606-1683), the boldest spirit of the colo- 
nies, having sought the religious liberty he craved, was perse- 



* For contemporaries seen at a glance, see Trimble's Chart of General Litera- 
ture. 

33* 



890 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



cuted — banished by those who had themselves fled from perse- 
cution at home. He is known as the founder of the State of 
Khode Island. He wrote The Bloody Tenet of Persecution, The 
Hireling Ministry none of ChrisVs^ George Fox Digged out of Ms 
Burrows. 

John Eliot, "the Apostle to the Indians," translated the 
entire Bible into the Indian language. It was the first Bible in 
any language printed in America. 

EiCHARD, Increase, and Cotton Mather bore prominent 
parts in the history and literature of the young colony. Cot- 
ton Mather (1663-1728), son of Increase, and grandson to 
Richard Mather, was also on the maternal side grandson of 
the "Great John Cotton." The name of Cotton Mather has 
descended to this generation associated with the darkest super- 
stition of his time. Zealous in all of his feelings, he was a 
"firm supporter of the extreme Calvinistic theology, and to 
him devils and angels were as real as his own family." In 
common with other of the wisest men of his times, he fully 
believed in witchcraft, and with characteristic zeal justified 
the wholesale execution of witches at Salem. And yet, such 
strange contradictions possess men's natures, this same per- 
secutor of innocent human beings was a devoted friend to 
the Indian, to prisoners, and to other oppressed and suf- 
fering humanity. His most important work was Magnolia 
Christi Americana, which,, while purporting to be an ecclesias- 
tical history of Kew England from 1620 to 1698, includes much 
history of the country, its people, and events of interest. The 
pen portraits contained in this work are highly valued. Other 
works of Cotton Mather's are Memorable Providences Belating 
to Witchcraft, The Wonders of the Invisible World, being an Ac- 
count of the Trial of Several Witches, etc. 

The first three Governors of the Plymouth Colony— Gov- 
ernors WiNTHROP, Bradford, and Winslow — were all men 
of culture, and wrote mainly concerning the progress of the 
colony. 

Charles Chauncey (1589-1672), the second^ President of 



* Rev. Henry Dunster was the first President of Harvard College. 



AMERICAN COLONIAL PERIOD, 



391 



Harvard College, was a man of great learning, and published 
several works. 

The poetic spirit was not wholly wanting in the young colony, 
at least the gift of rhyming existed. Anne Bradstreet (1612- 
1672) was called the "Tenth Muse." She is regarded as Amer- 
ica's first poetess. Our literary ancestors indulged in copious 
titles to their works. The title of Anne Bradstreet's volume 
of poetry is as follows : 

" Several Poems,, Compiled vnth great Variety of Wit and Learn- 
ingf, full of Delight; wherein esioecially is contained a Complete 
Discourse and Description of the Four Elements, Constitutions, 
Ages of Moons and Seasons of the Year, together with an Exact 
Epitome of the Three First Monarchies, viz. : the Assyrian, Persian, 
and Grecian ; and the Beginning of the Roman Commonwealth to 
the end of their last King; with Divers Other Pleasant and Serious 
Poems: By a Gentlewoman of New England.'''' 

Michael Wigglesworth (1631-1705) wrote two poems 
which went through several editions. They were Meat out of 
the Eater and The Day of Doom Peter Folger (1618-1690), 
grandfather on the maternal side to Benjamin Franklin, wrote 
a poem called A Looking- Glass for the Times. 

James Logan (1674-1751) came to America with William 
Penn. He, like Penn, was a friend of the Indian, and the great 
Indian chief, Logan, received his name from him. Logan wrote 
considerable both in Latin and English, Towards the close 
of his life, at his home near Germantown, Pa., he translated 
Cicero's essay on Old Age, with Notes. John Woolman (1720- 
1772), a native of New Jersey, is known by his Journal. 

Numerous presidents of Harvard and Yale Colleges and the 
College of New Jersey have been more or less prominent in 
literature. President Clapp (1703-1767), of Yale College, 
was the author of several valuable works. Eev. Jonathan 
Dickinson (1688-1747), first President of the College of New 
Jersey, was also a writer of ability. 

Aaron Burr (1716-1757), father of the celebrated Aaron 
Burr of political memory, was the second President of the 
College of New Jersey,^ and author of several works. 

* The College of New Jersey, popularly called Princeton College, was opened in 
1747, at Elizabethtown, and was removed the same year to Newark. In 1757 it was 
transferred to Princeton. 



892 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



The third president of this college was the most illustrious 
writer of the period. This was Jonathan Edwards (1703- 
1758), known on both continents as one of the greatest of meta- 
physicians. He was contemporary with the great inquirers — 
skeptics — Hume and Voltaire. But the mind of Jonathan 
Edwards entertained no doubts. Entering into the most 
abstruse speculations in metaphysics, he yet maintained his 
orthodoxical views on religion, and wrote on The Doctrine of 
Original Sin^ The Mid for which God Created, the World, The 
History of Redemption, etc. His great work is On the Freedom 
of the Will. 

Illustrations of the Literature of Colonial Times. 
From the Bay Psalm Book. 

PSAIvM CXXXVII. 

The rivers on of Babilon, 

There when wee did sit downe, 
Yea, even then, wee mourned when 

Wee remembered Sion. 

Our harp wee did hang it amid, 

Upon the willow tree. 
Because there they that us away 

Led in captivitee, 

Kequir'd of us a song, and thus 

Askt mirth us waste who laid, 
Sing us among a Sion's song, 

Unto us then they said. 

The Lord's song sing, can wee, being 

In stranger's land? then let 
Lose her skill my right hand if I 

Jerusalem forget. 

Let cleave my tongue my pallate on 

If mind thee doe not I, 
If chiefe joyes o'er I prize not more 

Jerusalem my joy. 



AMERICAN COLONIAL PERIOD. 393 



From The New England Primer. 



In Adam's fall, 
We sinned all. 



Young Timothy 
Learnt sin to fly. 



My Book and Heart 
Must never part. 



Xerxes did die, 
And so must I. 



Young Obadias, 
David, Josias, — 
All were pious. 



Zacclieus he 

Did climb the tree 

Our Lord to see. 



Peter denied 

His Lord, and cried. 



ANNE BRADSTBEET. 



From The Prologue to "The Four Elements." 
I am obnoxious to each carping tongue 

That says my hand a needle better fits; 
A Poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong, 

For such despite they cast on female wits ; 
If what I do prove well, it won't advance — 
They'll say, It's stolen, or else it was by chance. 

But sure, the antique Greeks were far more mild, 
Else of our sex why feigned they those Nine, 

And Poesy made Calliope's own child? 

So, 'mongst the rest, they placed the arts divine. 

But this weak knot they will full soon untie — 

The Greeks did naught but play the fool and lie. 

Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are; 

Men have precedency, and still excel; 
It is but vain unjustly to wage war, 

Men can do best, and women know it well; 
Pre-eminence in each and all is yours, 
Yet grant some small acknowledgment of ours. 

And oh, ye high-flown quills that soar the skies, 
And even with your prey still catch your praise, 

If e'er you deign these lowly lines to prize, 
Give thyme or parsley wreath ; I ask no bays ; 

This mean and unrefined ore of mine 

Will make your glistering gold but more to shine. 



394 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



MICHAEL, WIGGLESWORrH. 

From Meat out of the Eater. 

Soldier, be strong, who fightest 

Under a Captain stout ; 
Dishonor not thy conquering Head 

By basely giving out. 
Endure awhile, bear up. 

And hope for better things; 
War ends in peace, and morning light 

Mounts upon midnight's wings. 

COTTON MATHER. 

Mr. Cotton, Mr. Hooker, and Mr, Stone, which glorious triumvirate 
coming together made the poor people in the wilderness, at their com- 
ing, to say, that the God of Heaven had supplied them with what would 
in some sort answer their then great necessities : Cotton for their clothing, 
Hooker for their fishing, and Stone for their builaing. 

Epitaph on Michael Wiggleswokth. 

The excellent Wigglesworth remembered by some good tokens. 

His pen did once meat from the eater fetch, 
And now he's gone beyond the eater's reach. 
His body once so thin, was next to none ; 
From hence he 's to embodied spirits flown ; 
Once his rare skill did all diseases heal, 
And he does nothing now uneasy feel. 
He to his paradise is joyful come. 
And waits with joy to see his day of Doom." 

JONATHAN EDWARDS. 

From The Freedom of the Will. 

If the Will, which we find governs the members of the body, and 
determines their motions, does not govern itself, and determine its own 
actions, it doubtless determines them the same way, even by antecedent 
volitions. The Will determines which way the hands and feet shall 
move, by an act of choice : and there is no other way of the Will's de- 



AMERICAN COLONIAL PERIOD. 895 

m. 

determining, directing, or commanding anything at all. Whatsoever 
the Will commands, it commands by an act of the Will. And if it has 
itself under its command, and determines itself in its own actions, it 
doubtless does it in the same way that it determines other things which 
are underwits command. So that if the freedom of the Will consists in 
this, that it has itself and its own actions under its command and direc- 
tion, and its own volitions are determined by itself, it will follow, that 
every free volition arises from another antecedent volition, directing 
and commanding that : and if that directing volition be also free, in that 
also the Will is determined : that is to say, that directing volition is 
determined by another going before that ; and so on, till we come to the 
first volition in the whole series ; and if that first volition be free, and 
the Will self-determined in it, then that is determined by another voli- 
tion preceding that. Which is a contradiction ; because by the suppo- 
sition it can have none before it, to direct or determine it, being the first 
in the train. But if that first volition is not determined by any preced- 
ing act of the Will, then that act is not determined by the Will, and so 
is not free in the Arminian notion of freedom, which consists in the 
Will's self-determination. And if that first act of the Will which deter- 
mines and fixes the subsequent acts be not free, none of the following 
acts, which are determined by it, can be free. If we suppose there are 
five acts in the train, the fifth and last determined by the fourth, and 
the fourth by the third, the third by the second, and the second by the 
first ; if the first is not determined by the Will, and so not free, then 
none of them are truly determined by the Will : that is, that each of them 
are as they are, and not otherwise, is not first owing to the Will, but to 
the determination of the first in the series, which is not dependent on 
the Will, and is that which the Will has no hand in determining. And 
this being that which decides what the rest shall be, and determines 
their existence ; therefore the first determination of their existence is 
not from the Will. The case is just the same if, instead of a chain of 
five acts of the Will, we should suppose a succession of ten, or an hun- 
dred, or ten thousand. If the first act be not free, being determined by 
something out of the Will, and this determines the next to be agreeabLe 
to itself, and that the next, and so on ; none of them are free, but all 
originally depend on, and are determined by, some cause out of the Will ; 
and so all freedom in the case is excluded, and no act of the Will can 
be free, according to this notion of freedom. Thus, this Arminian notion 
of Liberty of the Will, consisting in the Will's Self-determination, is 
repugnant to itself, and shuts itself wholly out of the world. 



896 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Syllabus. 

The literature of America is unlike that of every other nation, in not 
having its origin in poetry. 

We have a history, but no traditional myths. 

Theology instead of poetry M^as the first feature in American literature. 
One of the first cares of the colonists was to plant institutions of learning. 
Harvard College was founded in 1638. 
Seven colleges had sprung up before 1767. 

The first printing-press was established at Harvard College. The first 
book printed in America was the Bay Psalm Book, Cambridge, 1640. 

At this time John Milton was pleading for the liberty of the press in 
England. 

Among the prominent theologians of the earliest colonial times were 
John Cotton, Roger Williams, Thomas Hooper, Samuel Stone, John Eliot, 
Increase Mather, and Cotton Mather. 

Many of the Governors of the young colony were men of literary culture. 

The Presidents of the several colleges were also men of letters. Presi- 
dent Chauncey was the first of note. 

The poets of the time were rare. Anne Bradstreet is regarded as the 
first poetess of America. 

Michael Wigglesworth and Peter Folger had also some distinction as 
poets or rhymers. There was no true poetry written in the colonial times. 

Other writers of the time were James Logan, John Woolman, President 
Clapp, Rev. Jonathan Dickinson, and President Burr. 

Jonathan Edwards was by far the most prominent writer of the time, 
and was considered one of the greatest metaphysicians of the age. His 
principal work is, On the Freedom of the Will. 




FRANKLIN. 



CHAPTER XV. 
The Revolutionary Period. 

1775-1800. 

AMERICAN Literature may be said to have sprung into 
existence with the oratory of Patrick Henry and James 
Otis ; with the speeches and letters of the elder Adams, Wash- 
ington, Hamilton, Jefferson, Jay, Madison, and other patriots 
of the Revolution. The literature of this period was as dis- 
tinctly political as it was theological in the age preceding. 

Orators and Political Writers. 

Oratory, the literature of republics, has seldom had such rep- 
resentatives as this country has afforded. But the literature of 
oratory is more or less ephemeral in its nature, and orations, 
if they are handed down to us at all, lack the eloquence of 
eye and voice and gesture that breathed inspiring life to the 
speaker's words. Some of the grandest oratorical efforts were 
never recorded. 

This age of oratory in America had its counterpart in Eng- 
lish politics. Contemporary with Patrick Henry, James Otis, 
Adams, and Jefferson in America, were Pitt, Burke, Fox, and 
Sheridan in England. 

James Otis (1725-1783) was one of the ablest orators and 
firmest patriots of the Revolution. Of his first great speech, 
made in 1761, John Adams says, " American independence was 
then and there born." Patrick Henry (1736-1799), of Vir- 
34 397 



898 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



ginia, with his tongue of flame kindled his hearers with the 
enthusiasm for Hberty, and Fisher Ames (1758-1808) was one 
of the purest patriots and finest orators of the age.* 

The greatest name in the literature of this time is that of 
Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), famous equally in politics, 
science, and literature.! 

Franklin was a lad of thirteen when Addison died, but to 
the reading of Addison's Spectator he attributed some of his 
earliest impulses in writing. Ambitious of acquiring knowl- 
edge, he soon accustomed himself to habits of study. Leaving 
his brother's printing-office in Boston, he set out for Philadel- 
phia, where, after working for some time as a printer, he bought, 
in 1730, the "Pennsylvania Gazette," which had been estab- 
lished two years before. As editor of this journal he exerted 
his influence in politics, hterature, and society. The next 
year he started the Philadelphia Library, and soon after the 
American Philosophical Society. The University of Pennsyl- 
vania also owes its origin to him. 

He was at this, time interested in making those philosophical 
experiments for which he became famous, but alive to pub- 
lic interests and human needs, he gave his time, talents, and 
money to every benevolent scheme. In 1757 he was appointed 
Postmaster-General, and the same year received from Harvard 
and Yale Colleges the honorary title of Master of Arts. He 
had previously been elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, 
London. 

Several times he was sent by the colonies to London as medi- 



* " He was decidedly one of the most splendid rhetoricians of the age. Two of his 
speeches, in a special manner, — that on Jay's treaty, and that usually called his 
' tomahawk speech ' (because it included some resplendent passages on Indian mas- 
sacres),— were the most brilliant and fascinating specimens of eloquence I have ever 
heard ; yet have I listened to some of the most celebrated speakers in the British 
Parliament ; among others, to Wilberforce and Mackintosh, Plunket, Brougham, and 
Canning. Dr. Priestley, who was familiar with the oratory of Pitt the father and 
Pitt the son, and also with that of Burke and Fox, made to myself the acknowledg- 
ment that, to use his own words, ' the speech of Ames on the British treaty was the 
most bewitching piece of parliamentary oratory he had ever listened to.'"— Z>>\ 
Charles Caldwell. 

fDr. Johnson was at this time the great name in English literature. It will be 
remembered, however, that he felt no sympathy with Americans in their separation 
from England. 



i 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 399 



ator with the mother country, and in 1766, aided by the great 
EngUsh statesman, William Pitt, he secured the repeal of the 
Stamp Act.* 

In 1775 he was elected a member of the Continental Con- 
gress, then sitting in Philadelphia, and the next year helped to 
draft the Declaration of Independence. After signing the Dec- 
laration, he was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to France. 
In 1785 he was made Governor of Pennsylvania, and elected 
to the Federal Convention of 1787 for framing the Constitution 
of the United States. 

The writings of Franklin fill ten octavo volumes. They con- 
sist of papers on Electricity and other Scientific and Pliilosophi- 
cal Subjects., Essays on Moral and Religious Subjects^ and on Pol- 
itics^ Commerce., and Political Economy. 

While engaged in editing the "Pennsylvania Gazette," 
Franklin began the publication of Poor Richard''s Almanac, 
which was continued for twenty-five years. "Eichard Saun- 
ders, Philomath," was the professed author. This almanac 
was famous for its collection of wise maxims, mainly incul- 
cating habits of prudence and economy. So popular was 
"Poor Eichard's Almanac," that the annual sale was about 
ten thousand copies. 

Of Franklin's tact and ability in the affairs of Government, 
Bancroft, the great American historian, fifty years after- 
wards said: "Franklin was the greatest diplomatist of the 
eighteenth century. He never spoke a word too soon ; he 
never spoke a word too late ; he never spoke a word too much ; 
he never failed to speak the right word in the right place." 

* " In order to obtain fuller and more accurate information respecting America, 
the party in opposition to the ministry proposed that Franklin should be interro- 
gated publicly before the House of Commons. Accordingly, on the third of Febru- 
ary, 1766, he was summoned to the box of the House for that purpose. The dignity 
of his personal appearance, and the calmness of his demeanor, equally unmoved by 
the illusions, and undismayed by the insolence of power, added not a little to make 
the whole scene highly imposing, and, indeed, morally sublime — to see a solitary 
representative, from the then infant colonies, standing alone amid the concentrated 
pomp and pageantry, the nobility and the learning, of the mightiest kingdom of the 
earth, with the eyes of all gazing upon him, and acquitting himself so nobly as to 
call down the plaudits of his enemies. The result might have been anticipated ; for 
such was the impression he made upon Parliament, that the Stamp Act was re- 
pealed." 



400 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



The Federalist was a publication of national importance at 
this time. It was a series of papers written by Alexander 
Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay, over the common 
signature of " Publius." It was the result of disputes and dis- 
satisfaction arising from the adoption of the Constitution by 
the Federal Convention in 1787, and its object was to show the 
colonists the advantage of the measure, and to instruct them 
in the elementary principles of government. 

Alexander Hamilton (1757-1804) was born in the West 
Indies, on the island of Nevis. At the age of sixteen he was 
sent to Xew York, and entered Columbia College. Before his 
collegiate course ended, he wrote a series of Essays on the 
Bights of the Colonies, and with impassioned eloquence addressed 
public assemblies on the subject of national independence. He 
was one of the three delegates from New York to the Federal 
Convention. "There is not,'' says Guizot,'^ "one element of 
order, strength, or durability in the Constitution which he did 
not powerfully contribute to introduce, and cause to be adopted. " 
Of the eighty-five numbers of the Federalist, he wrote sixty- 
three. 

Hamilton was held in highest esteem by Washington, and in 
the organizatio^n of government was created Secretary of the 
Treasury. While in this position he wrote numerous articles 
counselHng neutrality in regard to the French Revolution, then 
at its height. But when war with France was imminent, Ham- 
ilton, at Washington's suggestion, was placed next to himself 
in command. 

The tragic death of this warm patriot is too well known. 
Duelling at that day was regarded as the principal means of 
deciding a " question of honor ; " and " satisfaction " being de- 
manded of him by Aaron Burr, then Yice-President of the 
United States, for some real or supposed expressions derogatory 
to Burr's character, Hamilton accepted the challenge, and was 
mortally wounded. For such a loss by such means there are 
no compensating or consoling reflections. 

George Washington (1732-1799) will ev^r hold his place in 



* Francois Pierre Guillaume Guizot (1787-1874), an eminent French statesman and 
historian. 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 401 



the aflections of the people, and while he made no pretension 
to literary distinction, his Letters and Official Documents deserve 
a place in American literature. 

The three succeeding Presidents of the United States were 
men of literary ability, and their contributions to the political 
literature of this nation were important. Johj^ Adams (1735- 
1826) wrote some powerful political pamphlets, and his letters 
form a valuable addition to the literature of his times. Thomas 
Jefferson (1743-1826) immortalized himself as the writer 
of the Declaration of Independence.^ He was author also of 
many other papers and Letters of importance. Jeflerson was 
one of the best educated men of his times. His Notes on Vir- 
ginia is one of his most important works. James Madisoist 
(1751-1836) is principally known in literature by his contri- 
butions to The Federalist., and by his Beport of the Debates of 
the Convention lohich framed the Constitution. 

John Jay (1745-1829) was one of the purest patriots of the 
Revolution. He was associated with Hamilton and Madison in 
contributing to The Federalist. He was equally noted as states- 
man and jurist. 

JosiAH QuiNCY, Jr. (1744-1775), took an active part in the 
political warfare of the times. His tongue and pen were elo- 
quent in behalf of independence. 

Abigail Adams (1744-1818), wife of John Adams, deserves, 
in a literary point of view, equal mention with her husband. 
Her Letters f have recently been published. 

Among the patriots of this time should be named the Rev. 
ionN WiTHERSPOON (1722-1794), another of the illustrious 
Presidents of Princeton College. He was a native of Scotland, 
but a devoted friend to American liberties. He represented 
IS'ew Jersey in the first Continental Congress, and was one of 
the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He gave 
his talents in various ways for the good of the country, and 



*The committee appointed to draw up the Declaration of Independence consisted 
of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and R. R. 
Livingstone. At the request of John Adams, the writing of it was entrusted to 
Thomas Jefferson. 

t Familiar Letters of John Adams and his wife Abigail Adams during the Revo- 
lution, with a Memoir of Mrs. Adams by Charles Francis Adams. 

34* 2A 



402 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



the papers prepared by him on money and finance are re- 
markable pubUc documents. His writings are various. They 
consist of Sermons., and Lectures on Moral Philosophy, on 
Moquence, Dimnity., on Education.^ An Inquiry into the Nature 
and Effect of the Stage, Essays on Money as a Medium of Com- 
merce, Speeches in Congress, Letters on Marriage.* 

Thomas Paine (1736-1809), meeting with Dr. FrankUn in 
London, came in 1774 to America, and by his pen aided the 
Eevolution. His poUtical pamphlet, called Common Sense, ex- 
erted great influence in the formation of the republic. In 1776 
he issued a periodical called The Crisis. The Bights of Man, 
written after his return to England, was a vindication of the 
French Revolution. The Age of Eeason was partly written 
while in a French prison. 

John Dickinson (1732-1808) was a Representative from 
Pennsylvania in the first Continental Congress, and wrote 
many of the resolutions and State papers of the convention. 
Believing, however, that the Declaration of Independence was 
premature, he refused to be one of its signers. 

Poets. 

All of the writings of this time were more or less political in 
nature. Satire was the chief feature of the poetry, and, in the 
hands of such writers as Francis Hopkinson, Philip Fre- 
NEAU, John Trumbull, became a powerful weapon on the 
side of American independence. 

Francis Hopkinson (1737-1791), one of the greatest hu* 
morists of the Revolution, was a man of varied attainments 
and marked ability. He represented New Jersey in the Con- 
tinental Congress, was one of the signers of the Declaration 
of Independence, and was afterwards appointed by Washing- 
ton as Judge of the United States District Court ; but he is 



* Witberspoon was a man of rare social qualities, and his fund of humor was inex- 
haustible. When Burgoyne's army was captured, the messenger dispatched by Gen- 
eral Gates to Congress with the news, arrived to find the news had preceded him by 
several days. Congress was about to vote the tardy messenger a sword, when Witb- 
erspoon arose, and begged leave to move that instead of a sword he should be presented 
with a pair of golden spurs ! 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 403 



best remembered by his contributions to literature. His chief 
satirical poems are The Battle of the Kegs, The New Boqf^ The 
Treaty, A Camp Ballad, Description of the Church, etc. The 
satirical essays are, The Typograxjhical Mode of Conducting a 
Quarrel, On Modern Learning, Amhiguity of the English Lan- 
guage, On Diseases of the Mind, On Whitewashing, etc. 

Philip Ereneau (1752-1832) was born in Kew York, and 
received his education at Princeton, in the same class with 
James Madison. With the versatility of his French blood, he 
produced prose and poetry in satire and in serious vein. Parti- 
san feeling had sprung up in the government, and the Federal- 
ist and Republican (Democrat) parties were organized. In aid 
of the latter the pen of Freneau was industriously employed. 

John Trumbull (1750-1831) is chiefly remembered by his 
poem McFingal. He also wrote a satire on the prevailing mode 
of education, entitled The Progress of Dulness. 

Joel Barlow (1755-1812) wrote a humorous poem called 
Hasty Pudding. He wrote also a long epic poem entitled the 
Columbiad. For this national epic he is famed, although the 
poem itself was a failure, and finds but few readers now.* 

!N'ot least among the versifiers of this age was Phillis 
Wheatley Peters (1754-1784), a native of Africa, who 
when a child was brought to this country in a slave-ship, and 
sold in the slave-market in Boston to a Mr. John Wheatley. 
Every care was bestowed upon her education by the kind 
family of Mr. Wheatley. Meeting with the best society in Bos- 
ton, her talents and poetical gift attracted the attention of lit- 
erary people. A volume of her poems was published in London 
before she was nineteen, and when the next year she herself 
went to England, travelling for her health, she was cordially 



*"ln sketching the history of America from the days of Manco Capac down to 
the present day, and a few thousand years lower, the author, of course, cannot spare 
time to make us acquainted with any one individual. The most important person- 
ages, therefore, appear but once upon the scene, and then fall away and are forgotten. 
Mr. Barlow's exhibition accordingly partakes more of the nature of a procession 
than of a drama. River gods, sachems, majors of militia, all enter at one side of his 
stage, and go off at the other, never to return. Rocha and Oella take up as much 
room as Greene and Washington ; and the rivers Potowmak and Delaware, those 
fluent and venerable personages, both act and talk a great deal more than Jefferson 
and Franklin." Jeffrey^ in ^Edinburgh Review, 



404 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



received by many distinguished people. She married a colored 
man of education — a lawyer. Her last years were spent in 
poverty. 

Key. Mather Byles (1706-1788), a descendant of the fa- 
mous Mather family, had a reputation in his day for wit, and 
wrote some verses. 

Mrs. Mercy Warren (1728-1814), a sister of James Otis, 
wrote several dramas and poems, which were for a long time 
popular. 

Timothy Dwight (1752-1817) wrote several poems, and 
made a revision of Watt's Hymns. He was celebrated as a 
theologian and follower of Edwards, and as an able President 
of Yale College. 

Theology. 

In theology the names of Timothy Dwight, Samuel 
Hopkins, and Nathaniel Emmons are prominent as fol- 
lowers of the teaching of Jonathan Edwards. Samuel Hop- 
kins (1721-1803), the founder of Hopkinsianism, studied under 
Edwards, and wrote a System of Theology. 

History, etc. ' 

The department of history is represented principally by 
David Eamsay (1749-1815), who wrote a History of the United 
States and a History of South Carolina. He is to be remembered 
as the first American historian of note. Henry Lee (1756- 
1808) wrote Memoirs of the Southern Department of the United 
States. He delivered Washington's Funeral Oration. 

One of the earliest philologists of this country was Lindley 
Murray (1745-1826). Like the historian David Ramsay, he 
was born near Lancaster, Pa. His best known works are an 
English Grammar^ The English Beader, An Introduction to the 
English Header^ and a Sequel to the English Header. He also 
wrote The Power of Beligion on the Mind^ Duty and Benefit of a 
Daily Perusal of the Holy Scriptures. 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 405 



Illustrations of the Literature of the Revolu- 
tionary Period. 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

From Poor Richard's Almanac. 

The hour of the sale not being come, they were conversing on the 
badness of the times ; and one of the company called to a plain, clean 
old man, with white locks : " Pray, Father Abraham, what think you 
of the times ? Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the country ? How 
shall we ever be able to pay them ? What would you advise us to ? " 
Father Abraham stood up, and replied : " If you would have my ad- 
vice, I will give it you in short ; for A word to the wise is enough, as Poor 
Richard says." They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and, 
gathering round him, he proceeded as follows : 

" Friends," said he, " the taxes are indeed very heavy, and, if those 
laid on by the government were the only ones we had to pay, we might 
more easily discharge them ; but we have many others, and much more 
grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, 
three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly ; 
and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us by 
allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and 
something may be done for us. God helps them that help themselves, as 
Poor Richard says. 

" It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people 
one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service ; but idleness 
taxes many of us much more ; sloth, by bringing on diseases absolutely 
shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears ; while the 
used key is always bright, as Poor Richard says. But dost thou love life, 
then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of, as Poor Rich- 
ard says. How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep, for- 
getting that The sleeping fox catches no poultry, and that There will be sleep- 
ing enough in the grave, as Poor Richard says." 

More of Poor Richard's Sayings. 

If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the 
greatest prodigality. 

Lost time is never found again ; and what we call time enough always 
proves little enough. 



406 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy. 
Drive thy business, let not that drive thee. 

Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and 
wise. 

Diligence is the mother of good luck. 
God gives all things to industry. 

Plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you will have corn to sell and 
to keep. 

One to-day is worth two to-morrows. 

Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day. 

The cat in gloves catches no mice. 

Constant dropping wears away stones. 

Little strokes fell great oaks. 

Three removes are as bad as a fire. 

Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee. 

If you would have your business done, go ; if not, send. 

He that by the plough would thrive. 

Himself -must either hold or drive. 
A fat kitchen makes a lean will. 

If you would be wealthy think of saving as well as of getting. 
What maintains one vice would bring up two children. 
A small leak will sink a great ship. 

From a Letter to Sir Joseph Banks, dated July, 1783. 

On the Eeturn of Peace. 

Dear Sir : — I join with you most cordially in rejoicing at the return 
of peace. I hope it will be lasting, and that mankind will at length, as 
they call themselves reasonable creatures, have reason and sense enough 
to settle their differences without cutting throats ; for, in my opinion, 
there never was a good war or a had peace. What vast additions to the 
conveniences and comforts of living might mankind have acquired, if 
the money spent in wars had been employed in works of public utility ! 
What an extension of agriculture, even to the tops of our mountains ; 
what rivers rendered navigable, or joined by canals; what bridges, 
aquedacts, new roads, and other public works, edifices, and improve- 
ments, rendering England a complete paradise, might have been 
obtained by spending those millions in doing good, which in the last 
war have been spent in doing mischief ; in bringing misery into thou- 
sands of families, and destroying the lives of so many thousands of 
working people, who might have performed the useful labor ! 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 407 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

From a Letter to Lafayette. 

There is not a man living who wishes more sincerely than I do to 
see a plan adopted for the abolition of it.* But there is only one proper 
and effectual mode bv which it can be accomplished, and that is, by legisla- 
tive authority ; and this, as far as my suffrage will go, shall never be 
wanting. 

I never mean, unless some peculiar circumstances should compel me 
to it, to possess another slave by purchase, it being among my first 
wishes to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this country may 
be abolished by law. 

JOHN ADAMS. 

From a Letter to his Wife. 

July 3, 1776. 

The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epocha 
in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be cele- 
brated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It 
ought to be commemorated, as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts 
of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp 
and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illumina- 
tions from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward 
for evermore. 

You will think me transported Avith enthusiasm ; but I am not. I 
am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure that it will cost us to 
maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet, 
through all the gloom, I can see the rays of ravishing light and glory. 
I can see that the end is more than worth all the means ; and that pos- 
terity will triumph in that dayjs transaction, even although we should 
rue it, which I trust in God we shall not. 

ABIGAIL ADAMS. 

From a Letter to her Httsbakd on his being elected 
President of the United States. 

QuiNcy, February 8, 1797. 
"The sun is dressed in brightest beams, 
To give thy honors to the day." 

And may it prove an auspicious prelude to each ensuing season ! You 



* Slavery. 



408 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



have this day to declare yourself head of a nation. " And now, O Lord, 
my God, thou hast made thy servant ruler over the people. Give unto 
him an understanding heart, that he may know how to go out and come 
in before this great people ; that he may discern between good and bad ; 
for who is able to judge this thy so great a people ? " were the words of 
a royal sovereign ; and not less applicable to him who is invested with 
the chief magistracy of a nation, though he wear not a crown nor the 
robes of royalty. 

My thoughts and my meditations are with you, though personally 
absent ; and my petitions to Heaven are that " the things which make 
for peace may not be hidden from your eyes." My feelings are not 
those of pride or ostentation upon the occasion. They are solemnized 
by a sense of the obligations, the important trusts and numerous duties, 
connected with it. That you may be enabled to discharge them with 
honor to yourself, with justice and impartiality to your country, and 
with satisfaction to this great people, shall be the daily prayer of your 

A. A. 

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

From The Preamble to the Declaration of 
Independence. 

We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created 
equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalien- 
able rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of hap- 
piness ; that, to secure these rights, governments are instituted among 
men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that, 
whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, 
it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a 
new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organ- 
izing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect 
their safety and happiness. 

JOHN WITHERSPOON. 

From Essay on Money as a Medium of Commerce. 

The quantity of gold and silver at any time in a nation is no evidence 
of national wealth, unless you take into consideration the way in which 
it came there, and the probability of its continuing. 

i 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 409 



JOHN DICKINSON. 

From The Liberty Sonq (1768). 

Then join in hands, brave Americans all, 
By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall. 

THOMAS PAINE. 

From The Crisis. 
These are the times that try men's souls. 

HENRY LEE. 

From Funeral Oration on the Death of Washington. 

First in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen. 

FRANCIS HOPKINSON. 

From The Battle of the Kegs.* 

* ^ ¥r ^ ¥r 

The royal band now ready stand, 

All rang'd in dread array, sir. 
With stomach stout to see it out, 

And make a bloody day, sir. 

The cannons roar from shore to shore, 

The small arms make a rattle ; 
Since wars began I'm sure no man 

E'er saw so strange a battle. 

The rebel dales, the rebel vales, 

With rebel trees surrounded ; 
The distant wood, the hills and floods, 

With rebel echoes sounded. 

The fish below swam to and fro, 

Attack'd from ev'ry quarter; 
Why sure, thought they, the devil's to pay 

'Mongst folks above the water. 

* This ballad was occasioned by a real incident. Certain machines, in the form 
of kegs, charged with gunpowder, were sent down the rirer to annoy the British 
shipping then at Philadelphia. The danger of these machines being discovered, 
the British manned the wharves and shipping, and discharged their small arms and 
cannons at every thing they saw floating in the river during the ebb tide. 

35 



410 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



The kegs, 't is said, tho' strongly made 
Of rebel staves and hoops, sir. 

Could not oppose their powerful foes, 
The conq'ring British troops, sir. 

From morn to night these men of might 

Display' d amazing courage ; 
And when the sun was fairly down, 

Eetir'd to sup their porridge. 

An hundred men with each a pen, 

Or more, upon my word, sir. 
It is most true would be too few 

Their valor to record, sir. 

Such feats did they perform that day 
Against these wicked kegs, sir, 

That years to come, if they get home, 
They '11 make their boasts and brags, sir. 

PHILIP FRENBAU. 

May to April. 
I. 

Without your showers 

I breed no flowers. 
Each field a barren waste appears ; 

If you don't weep. 

My blossoms sleep. 
They take such pleasure in your tears. 

II. 

As your decay 

Made room for May, 
So I must part with all that's mine; 

My balmy breeze. 

My blooming trees, 
To torrid suns their sweets resign. 

III. 

For April dead 
My shade I spread. 
To her I owe my dress so gayj 



LITERATURE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 411 



Of daughters three 
It falls on me 
To close our triumphs on one day. 

IV. 

Thus to repose 

All nature goes ; 
Month after month must find its doom; 

Time on the wing, 

May ends the Spring, 
And Summer frolics o'er her tomb. 



JOHN TRUMBULL. 

From McFiNGAL. 

When Yankees, skill'd in martial rule, 

First put the British troops to school, 

Instructed them in warlike trade, 

And new manoeuvres of parade. 

The true war-dance of Yankee reels, 

And manual exercise of heels ; 

Made them give up, like saints complete, 

The arm of flesh, and trust the feet, 

And work, like Christians undissembling. 

Salvation out, by fear and trembling; 

Taught Percys fashionable races, 

And modern modes of Chevy-Chases: 

From Boston, in his best array, 

Great Squire McFingal took his way, 

And graced with ensigns of renown, 

Steer'd homeward to his native town. 

His high descent our heralds trace 

From Ossian's famed Fingalian race: 

For though their name some part may lack. 

Old Fingal spelt it with a Mac ; 

Which great McPherson, with submission, 

We hope will add the next edition. 



* Lord Percy commanded the party that was first opposed to the Americans at 
Lexington. This allusion to the family renown of Chevy-Chase arose from the pre- 
cipitate manner of his lordship's quitting the field of battle and returning to Boston. 
~Lon. Edit. 



412 BISTORT OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



His fathers flourish'd in the Highlands 
Of Scotia's fog-benighted islands; 
Whence gain'd our 'squire two gifts by right, 
Kebellion, and the second-sight. 

Syllabus. 

Oratory is usually the prominent feature of republics, or of a nation in 
its struggle for freedom. 

The literature of America during the Eevolution was as distinctly patri' 
otic as it was theological in the Colonial period. 

The best orations are often unrecorded. 

James Otis, Patrick Henry, Fisher Ames were distinguished orators. 

This was the age of Burke, Pitt, Fox, and Sheridan in England, 

Dr. Franklin was the most prominent literary character of the age in 
America. Dr. Johnson was his contemporary in England. 

After the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, The Fed- 
eralist was one of the first publications. It was a series of papers written 
by Hamilton, Madison, and Jay. 

Alexander Hamilton was the brightest ornament of the age. 

George Washington's letters and public papers hold a place in literature. 

The three succeeding Presidents — Adams, Jefferson, Madison — contrib- 
uted to the political literature of the Revolution. 

Other patriotic writers of this time were John Jay, Josiah Quincy, Jr., 
John Dickinson, Rev. John Witherspoon, Thomas Paine, etc. 

The poets of the time wrote mainly in satiric vein. 

Principal among the satirists were Francis Hopkinson, Philip Freneau, 
and John Trumbull. 

Other poets were Joel Barlow, Phillis Wheatley Peters, Mrs. Mercy War- 
ren, Mather Byles, etc. 

Theologians were Timothy D wight, Samuel Hopkins, and Nathaniel 
Emmons. 

David Ramsay was the first historian of note in the republic. 
Lindley Murray was the first philologist. 



IRVING. 



CHAPTER XVI. 
The age of Irving. 

1800-1850. 

THE literary life of America dates from the beginning of the 
nineteenth century. It is coeval with the new birth of 
German literature — with that, indeed, of Teutonic literature 
outside of England. For the first twenty-five or thirty years, 
however, but few great writers appeared in America. 

The chief poets contemporary with Scott and Byron were 
Drake and Halleck. Many of the poets of the present day 
were rising into notice. Bryant had published some of his 
best poems, and before 1840 Longfellow, Whittier, and Low- 
ell had been recognized as poets of the first order ; and Emer- 
son, if he was not recognized as a sage, had uttered profound- 
est wisdom ; but these poets we claim as belonging to our own 
day as well as to all time to come. Poe belongs to the age 
under consideration, but his literary career began about 1830. 
Other poets contemporary with Halleck and Drake existed, and 
most of them became famous by a single song. Hail Columbia 
was written by Joseph HoPKmsoN (1770-1840), of Philadel- 
phia, son of Francis Hopkinson, of Revolutionary memory. The 
Star- Spangled Banner was the production of Francis S. Key 
(1779-1843), of Maryland. Robert Treat Paine, Jr. (1773- 
1811) is remembered by his patriotic poem of Adams and Lib- 
erty ; and the beautiful song of the Old Oaken Bucket is the one 
remembered poem of Samuel Wood worth (1785-1842). Home^ 
Sweet Home^ the treasured song in all lands, will live as long 
35^ 413 



414 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



as the language endures, though its author, John Howahd 
Payne (1792-1852), may be forgotten. 

Washington Allston (1779-1843), poet and painter, wrote, 
in 1813, the Sylphs of the Seasons, and other Poems. Before 1830, 
KiCHARD Henry Dana (1787-1879) had written his chief poem, 
The Biiccayieer,^ and Charles Sprague (1791-1875), in 1828, 
had written his Shakespearian Ode, which ranks with Gray's 
Progress of Poesy. Mrs. Maria Brooks (1795-1845) re- 
ceived from Southey, whom she visited in England, the title 
of "Maria del Occidente." Her chief poem was called Zo- 
phiel, or the Bride of Seven. The two sisters, Lucretia (1808- 
1825) and Margaret Davidson (1823-1838), were precocious 
children of song. The former died at the age of seventeen, 
and the latter at fifteen years, both having written creditable 
verses before their eleventh years. Mrs. Lydia H. Sigour- 
NEY (1791-1865) was a popular writer of the early part of the 
century, and published both prose and poetry. 

Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820), whose birth and death 
exactly coincide with the English poet Keats, resembled, in 
some respects, that short-lived poet. His fancy, however, was 
more delicate in its play, and quite as luxuriant, as is evidenced 
in his exquisite poem. The Culprit Fay.f He is best known 
by his patriotic poem. The American Flag, familiar to every 
reader. The Culprit Fay is a poem of some length, detail- 
ing with minuteness the punishment of the Eairy, whose 
offence was loving an earth-born maiden. The fairy court as- 
semble to pass judgment on the tiny Ouphe. Delicately and 
consistently the habitat of fairydom is portrayed, and never 
more delightful interest could be aroused than that with which 
we follow the little "culprit" through his assigned tasks of 
penance, so exquisitely performed. The whole story, while 
maintaining its unity of diminutiveness, is invested with such 



* Neither Dana nor Halleck wrote much after they were forty-five. 

t"2%e Culpj-it Fay arose out of a conversation in the summer of 1819, in which 
Drake, Cooper, and Halleck were speaking of the Scottish streams and their adapta- 
tion to the uses of poetry by their numerous romantic associations. Cooper and 
Halleck maintained that our own rivers furnished no such capabilities, while Drake, 
as usual, took the opposite side of the argument, and, to make his position good, 
produced in three days The Culprii Fay." 



THE AGE OF IRVING. 



415 



human interest, that it is truly one of the most deUghtful fairy 
stories in tlie language. 

FiTZ-GiiEEisrE Halleck (1795-1867), the intimate friend and 
associate of Drake, won his literary renov/n within the period 
which this chapter covers. He wrote but little more than 
Drake. Like his contemporary Byron, his interests were 
warmly roused for the Greeks in their struggle to throw off the 
Turkish yoke, and his immortal lyric, Marco Bozzaris, com- 
memorates the death of that hero in 1823. Halleck first drew 
public attention in 1819 by a series of humorous and satirical 
poems, published in conjunction with his friend Drake under 
the signature of "Croaker & Co." These papers made their 
appearance in 1819 in the "Evening Post." The chief poems 
of Halleck after Marco Bozzaris are his Xmes on Burns, one of 
the finest of the many tributes to that poet : Alnwick Castle, 
celebrating " the Percy's high-born race ; " Fanny, a satire on 
the fashionable literary and political enthusiasm of the day ; 
Bed Jacket and Twilight, the latter published in the "Evening 
Post " in 1818. His tribute to his friend Drake, two lines of 
which have become the current language of endearing praise, 
was written on the death of that poet.* Halleck wrote httle or 
nothing after 1827, and thirty-two poems comprise his works. 
Born in Connecticut, he resided most of his life in New York, 
and becoming clerk in a banking-house, was afterwards associ- 
ated with John Jacob Astor. 

The brief and fitful life of Edgar Allan Poe (1811-1849) 
had in it some points of resemblance to Byron's. Left an 
orphan at an early age, he was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Allan, 
of Richmond, Ya., who bestowed upon him their name and 
affection. Petulant, self-willed, and proud, he early wrested 
himself from all control. His wandering, dissipated life pre- 
sents few attractive features. His genius was of a high and 
rare order, and his productions weird and unnatural. He was 
a master of melody, but while his poems pleased the ear and 
fancy they seldom touched the heart, except to call forth pity 



* Green be the turf above thee, 
Friend of my better days ! 
None knew thee but to love thee, 
Nor named thee but to praise. 



416 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



for a gifted mind, "like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and 
harsh." His stories are more weird even than his poetry, and 
possess a peculiar fascination. Poe also wrote literary criti- 
cisms, but they were frequently marred with petty jealousies. 
His principal poems are The Raven^ The Bells, Ulalume, Anna- 
bel Lee, The Haunted Palace, etc. Among his tales are The 
Gold Bug, A MS. Found in a Bottle, Tales of the Grotesque and 
Arabesque, The Murder in the Rue Morgue, etc., etc. Poe also 
edited ''The Southern Literary Messenger," "The Gentle- 
man's Magazine," "Graham's Magazine," etc. 

Among the poets of this time was K. P. Willis (1806-1867), 
whose smoothness of versification somewhat resembles Moore's. 
His Scriptural ijoems contain his finest strains. He repre- 
sented in himself a certain phase of society that existed at 
the time in Kew York, which his minor poems also reflect. 
George P. Morris (1802-1864), "the song writer of Amer- 
ica," was associated with N. P. Willis. Together they edited 
the " Home Journal " and the " ISTew York Mirror." Morris's 
songs are familiar to all, especially My Mother'' s Bible; Wood- 
man, Spare that Tree; Long Time Ago, The Rock of the Pilgrims, 
Near the Lake where drooped the Willow, etc. He also wrote a 
drama, Briar Cliff, and an opera, The Maid of Saxony. 

Alfred B, Street (1811 ) has hardly been excelled in 

his pictures of forest life. He has written much prose and 
poetry, but is best known by his Gray Forest Eagle and the Lost 
Hunter. Frontenac is a metrical romance. A later work, pub- 
lished in 1864, Forest Pictures in the Adirondacs, shows his great 
love for forest trees. 

Mrs. Frances Osgood (1812-1850), of Massachusetts, and 
Mrs. Amelia B. Welby (1811-1851), of Louisville, Ky., were 
highly praised by Poe. The Labor song of Mrs. Osgood de- 
serves to live ; so, also, does The Rainbow by Mrs. Welby. Mrs. 
Hannah F. Gould (1789-1865), of Vermont, wrote some ex- 
cellent poems, among them The Frost, A Name in the Sand, etc. 
For one poem, Milton'' s Prayer for Patience, Elizabeth Lloyd 
Howell, of Philadelphia, deserves mention. 

John Pierpont (1785-1866) is less known by his longest 
poem. The Airs of Palestine, than by his shorter lyrics. Passing 
Away, My Child, The Battle-Field, etc. Many of his poems 



NO VE LISTS. 



417 



are on the leading topics of the day, Temperance, War, and 
Slavery. James Gates Percival (1795-1856), a scholar and 
poet, was remarkable for his descriptive power, and for a pecu- 
liar richness and delicacy of fancy. His Coral Grove is a fine 
example. 

The Drama and Novel. 

The drama has never taken distinct root upon American soil. 
Too much of earnest reality surrounded the settlers of this 
country for them to embody in a play the great drama they 
were themselves enacting. A few plays were, however, writ- 
ten. Mrs. Mercy Warren, already mentioned in the Revo- 
lutionary period, wrote satirical tragedies ; and Mrs. Susanna 
RowsoN (1761-1824), author of the once popular novel, Char- 
lotte Temple., wrote several comedies.* 

James A. Hillhouse (1789-1841) published in 1820 his 
Percy^s Masque^ a Drama in Five Acts. His best known drama 
is Hadad., the story of a Syrian prince contemporary with King 
David. He also wrote Demetria., a Tragedy in Five Acts., founded 
on an Italian story of love and jealousy. 

John Howard Payne, the author of Home., Sweet Home^ 
wrote a number of plays, having at an early age gone upon 

the stage. John Neal (1793 ), besides tales, novels, etc., 

wrote several Plays. 

Novelists. 

Charles Brockden Brown (1771-1810), born in Philadel- 
phia, was the first novelist of any note in America ; the first 
writer, also, who made literature a profession. His novel, Wie- 
land, made its appearance in 1798, and was followed in rapid 
succession by Ormond., Arthur Mervyn., Edgar Huntley., Clara 
Howard., Jane Talbot., Sky- Walk, or the Man Unknown to Him- 
self. His novels are of the "terrific school." Arthur Mervyn, 
said to be his best, contains scenes descriptive of the terrible 
year of the yellow fever in Philadelphia, 1793. 

James Fennimore Cooper (1789-1851) will hold a perma- 



*This lady was of English birth, but came to America when seven years of age. 
Three years of her life she was an actress in Boston and Philadelphia. She wrote a 
great number of novels and plays. 

2B 



418 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



nent place in American literature. He was born at Burlington, 
N. J. , but lived most of his life in Kew York. His fame as a 
novelist was established when, in 1821, he published his second 
novel, The S2)y. This was followed soon by The Pioneers, which 
still increased his fame. Before 1832 he had published twelve' 
novels. So popular were these, that they were translated into 
all the principal European languages. With untiring industry, 
this great master of the pen continued from year to year 
issuing novel after novel, until the last year of his life.* 

"Cooper represents the American mind in its adventurous 
character; he glories in delineating the 'monarch of the 
deck ; ' paints the movements of a ship at sea as if she were 
indeed ' a thing of life ; ' follows an Indian trail with the sa- 
gacity of a forest-king; and leads us through storms, confla- 
grations, and war with the firm, clear-sighted, and all-observant 
guidance of a master spirit. His best scenes and characters 
are indelibly engraven on the memory. His best creations 
are instinct with nature and truth. His tone is uniformly 
manly, fresh, and vigorous."! 

CATHARmE M. Sedgwick (1789-1867) made her first ap- 
pearance as an author in 1822, by the publication of A New 
England Tale. This was followed by Bedwood, a Tale; Hope 
Leslie, or Early Times in Massachusetts ; Clarence, a Tale of Our 
Own Times, and The Linwoods, or Sixty Years Since in A7nerica. 
After a period of twenty-two years, during which she wrote 
mainly for young people, she came forth with a novel entitled 
3Iarried or Single. Her stories for the young are the healthiest 



* The following is a list of 
Precaution, 1821, 
The Spy, 1821. 
The Pioneers, 1823. 
The Pilot, 1823. 
Lionel Lincoln, 1825. 
Last of the Mohicans, 1826. 
Bed Rover, 1827. 
The Prairie, 1827. 
Travelling Bachelor, 1828. 
Wept of Wish-ton-Wish, 1829. 
The Water-Witch, 1830. 
The Bravo, 1831. 

t H. T. Tuckerman, 



Cooper's novels, with the 
T/ie Heidenmauer, 1832. 
The Headsman, 1833. 
The Monikins, 1835. 
Homeward Bound, 1838. 
Home as Found, 1838. 
The Pathfinder, 1840. 
Mercedes of Castile, 1840. 
The Beer slayer, 1841. 
The Two Admirals, 1842. 
Wing and Wing, 1842. 
Ned Myers, 1843. 



dates of publication : 
Wyandotte, 1843. 
Afloat and Ashore, 1844. 
Miles Wallingford, 1844. 
The Chainbearer, 1845. 
Satansioe, 1845, 
The Red Skins, 1846. 
The Crater, 1847. 
Jack Tier, 1848. 
Oak Openings, 1848. 
The Sea Lions, 1849. 
The Ways of the Hour, 1850. 



SCIENTISTS. 



419 



of their kind. The first was Home., after which came The Poor 
Bich Man and the Bich Poor Man., Live and Let Live., Means and 
Ends., Morals and Manners, Facts and Fancies, etc. 

One of the most remarkable novels of the time was Margaret, 
by Sylvester Judd (1813-1853). William Ware (1797- 
1852) before 1840 had written his classical novels Zenobia, 
Aurelian, and Jidian. So also William Gilmore Simms 
(1806-1870), of Charleston, South Carolina, had written some 
of his best novels and poems. Charles F. Briggs, in 1839, 
had published Harry Franco. John P. Kennedy (1795-1870), 
had written Swalloic Barn and Horse-Shoe Bohinson, before 1840. 

James K. Paulding (1778-1860), mentioned in connection 
with Irving as a participant in the writing of Salmagundi, 
wrote innumerable satires — prose and poetry. One of the 
most popular was the Diverting History of John Bidl and Brother 
Jonathan. The Dutchman''s Fireside is said to be the best of 
his novels. 

T. S. Arthur (1809 ) has conscientiously devoted his 

life to the writing of stories and novels instilling morality, 
temperance, forbearance, and every Christian virtue. One of 
his best stories is Ten Nights in a Bar-room. 

Scientists. 

After Dr. FrankUn, Dr. Benjamin Kush (1745-1813) should 
be named among the promoters of science in this country. But 
more than all, he should be remembered for his philanthropy and 
liberal views of government. He was also one of the signers 
of the Declaration of Independence. He wrote several valu- 
able medical works. Alexander Wilson (1766-1813), while a 
Scotchman by birth, is claimed by Americans. His writings in 
this country are on Ornithology. A few years after Wilson had 
published his works, John James Audubon (1782-1851) pub- 
lished The Birds of America. In 1818, Prof. Benjamin Sil- 
LiMAN (1779-1864) established The American Journal of Science 
and Arts. He has been appropriately styled the "Father of 
American Periodical Science."- For more than fifty years — 
1804 to 1855— he was Professor of Chemistry, Mineralogy, and 
G-eology in Yale College, and wrote numerous works on these 



420 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



subjects. Benjamin Thompson (Count Eumford, 1753-1814) 
was a philosopher and economist. 

Theological Writers. 

The beginning of the nineteenth century witnessed consider- 
able excitement between Unitarianism and Trinitarianism in 
and around Boston. The representative leaders of the con- 
servative Congregationalists were the Eevs. Leonard Woods 
(1774-1854), the brothers Noah Worcester (1785-1837) and 
Samuel Worcester (1770-1821), and the learned Moses Stu- 
art (1780-1850). The most noted Unitarian representatives 
were William Ellery Channing (1780-1842), the Wares,— 
father and sons, and Andrews Norton (1786-1853). The 
controversy arose out of the appointment, in 1805, of Henry 
Ware, Sr. (1764-1845), to the Hollis professorship of divinity 
in Harvard College. Many of the leading clergy took part in 
the dispute. 

Dr. John M. Mason (1778-1829) was one of the finest pulpit 
orators of the country. His oration on the death of Alex- 
ander Hamilton has become one of the classics in literature. 

Dr. Lyman Beecher (1775-1863) was one of the first advo- 
cates of the temperance cause. Earnest in his convictions, 
and fearless in the expression of them, he entered heartily into 
whatever cause he embarked. He was one of the opposers 
of Dr. Channing in the Unitarian controversy. Dr. Beecher 
was born in New Haven, Conn. The fields of his labors as a 
preacher were Litchfield, Conn. ; Boston, and Cincinnati. In 
1832 he was appointed to the presidency of Lane Theological 
Seminary in Cincinnati. His chief published works are *Se?'- 
mons on Temperance, Scepticism, Views in Theology, Political 
Atheism, etc. 

Dr. Eliphalet Nott (1773-1866), for sixty-two years Presi- 
dent of Union College, was also an arduous upholder of tem- 
perance, and wrote much in its support. His Counsels to 
Young Men and Lectures on Temperance were valuable aids in 
reform. 

Dissensions in churches, showing the more liberal views in 



THEOLOGICAL WRITERS. 



421 



theology, became common. In the peaceful Society of Friends, 
difference of opinion arose — wider views of religion causing a 
separation in that body. This was mainly due to the preach- 
ing and writing of Elias Hicks (1748-1830). 

Moses Stuart was appointed in 1809 a Professor of Sacred 
Literature in Andover Theological Seminary. Aside from his 
early controversy with Channing and other Unitarians of Bos- 
ton, he is remembered as one of the finest Biblical scholars in 
the country. He wrote a great many theological works, but 
the most important is his Commentaries on the Epistles to the 
Romans and Hebrews, published in 1827. 

Dr. Channing ranks less prominently as a theologian than 
as a writer of ethical Essays. These works hold a high ranli in 
American literature. In 1828 he published his Remarks on the 
Life and Character of Napoleon Bonaparte. In 1837 he addressed 
a public Letter to Henry Clay against the extension of slavery 
by the annexation of Texas. This was followed by a Review 
of Joseph John Gurney''s* I^etters on West India Emancipation. 
Of Channing there can be but one opinion, and that perhaps 
Coleridge has expressed when he said of him, "he had the 
love of wisdom and the wisdom of love." His writings are all 
of an elevated and elevating tone. Doubtless many an Ameri- 
can youth received his first impulse and ambitious determi- 
nation from the reading of Channing's essay on Self-Culture. 
His Essay on the Character and Writings of John Milton shows 
his sympathy with lofty ideas. He early espoused the great 
movements of reform which were then beginning to agitate 
the community. On the subject of human bondage he was 
deeply moved. "There is one word that covers every cause 
to which Channing devoted his talents and his heart, and that 
word is Freedom. Liberty is the key of his religious, his polit- 
ical, his philanthropic, principles. Free the slave, free the 
serf, free the ignorant, free the sinful Let there be no chains 



* Joseph John Gurney (1788-1847) was an English philanthropist, who, with his 
sister Elizabeth Fry, celebrated for her humane prison missions, set out to carry ideas 
of prison-reform upon the Continent, and to appeal to the French Government to 
abolish slavery in their colonies. In 1837-39 he visited the United States and West 
Indies, and wrote concerning the results of emancipation in those islands. 
36 



422 



BISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



upon the conscience, the intellect, the pursuits, or the persons 
of men."* 

History and Biography. 
IRVING. 

It is difficult to classify under one head the writings of Wash- 
ington Irving (1783-1859). History and fiction both claim 
him, hut his inimitable works in the latter department do not 
come under the head of novels. Some of his best historical 
works were not written until after the close of this period. 
Under whatever head his writings may be classed, they are 
the pride of American literature. He has been called the 
Goldsmith of America, and has been, with some justice, com- 
pared to Addison. In the clearness and grace of his style, and 
in the ripple of humor that overflows all, there is some resem- 
blance to both writers. 

Irving was born in the city of New York. He received only 
a common-school education, but in his father's well-selected 
library, and in the company of his elder brothers, he enjoyed 
the intercourse needed for his future career. When he was 
nineteen he contributed articles to a paper— the "Morning 
Chronicle "—edited by his brother, Peter Irving. These 
articles were written under the pseudonym of " Jonathan Old- 
style." On account of ill-health, he sailed, in 1804, for south- 
ern Europe, visiting France, Italy, Switzerland, and Holland. 
Spending some time in London, he returned to New York, and 
with his brother, William Irving, and James K. Paulding 
started a fortnightly periodical, entitled Salmagundi^ profess- 
ing to give the "whim-whams and opinions of Launcelot Lang- 
staff, Esquire. " In this, as in Addison's Spectator, the follies 
of the day were satirized, though the humor was broader and 
the fun more irresistible than that of the Spectator. 

Irving's next venture was Knickerbocker's History of New 
York, published in 1809, the first part of which he wrote in 
conjunction with his brother. Dr. Peter Irving. After this he 
took another trip to Europe, and from London sent to New 



* Rev. H. W. Bellows. 



HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 



423 



York for publication the papers known afterward as the Sketch- 
Book. In 1820 the work was published in London, and was as 
popular there as here. In 1822, while in Paris, he wrote Brace- 
bridge Hall^ a collection of stories and sketches. Tales of a 
Traveller appeared two years later. 

In 1826, Irving visited Spain, invited by Alexander H. Ever- 
ett, then United States Minister to that country. While there 
he wrote the Life of Columhus and The Conquest of Granada., 
and collected materials for his Alhambra. Being appointed 
Secretary of Legation to the American Embassy in London, he 
went again to England, and in 1832 returned to JTew York. 
Soon after he commenced an extended Western tour, the fruits 
of which are Tour of the Prairies., Astoria., and the Adventures 
of Captain Bonneville. 

Under the pseudonym of " Geoffrey Crayon, Grentleman," he 
published the "Crayon Miscellany," in which his Tour of 
the Prairies was first issued, together with some European 
sketches. He afterwards contributed articles to the "Knicker- 
bocker Magazine,"* which were collected under the name of 
WolferVs Boost. 

In 1842, Irving was appointed as United States Minister to 
Spain, which position he occupied four years. Returning 
home, he took up his residence at "Sunnyside," on the Hud- 
son, and here, surrounded by his nieces, his brother, and his 
friends (he never married), Irving passed the remainder of his 
days. Here he wrote or enlarged the Life of Goldsmith., and near 
the close of his life wrote the Life of Washington., which is in 
itself a history of the Revolution. Twenty-three years of his 
Ufe were spent abroad, so that, in the words of Lowell, he is 
" neither English nor Yankee— just Irving." 

PRESOOTT. 

William Hickling Prescott (1796-1859), the most brill- 
iant of American historians, was a grandson of William Pres- 
cott of Bunker Hill memory. He was born at Salem, Mass. 
He entered Harvard at an early age, but before graduating, an 



*The "Knickerbocker Magazine" was established in 1883 by Charles Fenno 
Hoffman. 



424 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



accident occurred which caused blindness, and changed the 
whole current of his life. After graduating, he went abroad 
to secure the aid of the best oculists, but without avail. Re- 
turning, with no vain repinings, he decided on following a lit- 
erary life, applying the means which he possessed to secure the 
necessary aid. Questions in history, embracing the voyage of 
Columbus and the decline of the Moorish power in Spain, ab- 
sorbed his young imagination. By the aid of Alexander H. 
Everett, then Minister to Spain, he obtained ample documents 
on these subjects. These were read to him, while he took 
careful notes ; then the notes were read to him until his mind 
grasped the main points and most important details of the 
subject. These were then elaborated in his own mind and 
dictated in elegant language to his amanuensis. His first 
work thus dictated was the History of Ferdinand and Isabella. 
This was followed by the Conquest of Peru, and his last work 
was Philip II. of Spain. 

In biography, Jared Sparks (1794-1866) holds a high rank. 
His principal works are The Life of Washington, The Life of 
Franklin, Life of Gouverneur Morris, and Diplomatic Correspond- 
ence of the American Bevolution, etc. 

William Wirt (1772-1834) wrote many articles, but his Life 
of Patrick Henry would alone sustain his fame. John Mar- 
shall (1755-1835), for thirty-five years Chief-Justice of the 
Supreme Court of the United States, wrote a Life of Washing- 
ton. Timothy Flint (1780-1840), besides several romances, 
wrote a Condensed Geography and History of the Western Sta.tes 
in the Mississippi Valley. 

Statesmen, Orators, and Writers on Juris- 
prudence. 

Oratory flourished in this period as in the days of the early 
Republic. Among the most distinguished statesmen and ora- 
tors was John Quincy Adams* (1767-1848), who throughout 
his whole public career, which embraced, indeed, his whole life, 
kept unviolated the trust reposed in him by his constituents 



* John Quiney Adams was the son of John Adams, and sixth President of the 
United States. 



STATESMEN, ORATORS, ETC, 



425 



and the friends of humanity. Throughout his active pubUc 
service he found time to cultivate his literary tastes. Besides 
his political orations, he wrote lectures on Bhetoric and Ora- 
tory, The Bible and its Teachings, Poems of Beligion, Letters on 
Freemasonry, etc. 

As an orator and statesman, Daniel Webster (1782-1852) 
had few equals. He was endowed with a breadth of intellect 
that could comprehend the whole range of political knowledge ; 
but, like Lord Bacon, he "stooped to occasion," smothering 
the nobler instincts of his heart. The prose of Daniel Web- 
ster serves as a model for the young writer. Every word is 
an exact image of the thought expressed. Three of his ora- 
tions, aside from his Congressional speeches, are especially 
famous, the Plymouth Bock Discourse, The Bunker Hill Monu- 
ment, and the Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson. 

The oratory of Henry Clay (1777-1852) depended greatly 
on the magnetic qualities of voice and eye. His eloquence is 
said to have been unequalled. John C. Calhoun (1782-1850) 
was one of the most distinguished political writers of the time. 
Of his eloquence, Webster said, "His power consisted in the 
plainness of his propositions, the clearness of his logic, and 
in the earnestness and energy of his manner." 

Alexander H. Everett (1790-1847) was a fine scholar 
and diplomatist. His works are numerous. Among them the 
State of Europe, The State of America, various Critical and Mis- 
cellaneous Essays, Biographies, etc. He was sent on several 
foreign embassies of trust, and, while Minister to Spain, aided 
his young countrymen, Irving, Prescott, and Longfellow in 
their literary pursuits in that country. 

Edward Everett (1794-1865), the prince of American ora- 
tors, was a younger brother of Alexander Everett. Like the 
latter, he was actively engaged in the affairs of government. 
Ten years he served in Congress, for four successive years he 
was elected Governor of his native State, Massachusetts, and 
in 1841 was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court 
of St. James. Eor three years he was President of Harvard 
College, from 1846 to 1849, when he again entered political life. 
His orations are especially marked by their symmetry and 
36* 



426 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



finish — their elegance of style. His pubUshed works are a 

Defence of Christianity^ Miscellaneous Writings.^ Orations and 
Speeches. 

Among the prominent jurists of this time were Chancellor 
Kent and Judge Story. James Kent (1763-1847) contrib- 
uted to the literature of jurisprudence by his Commentaries on 
American Law. Joseph Story (1779-1845) wrote On the Con- 
stitution of the United States, On the Conflict of Laws, etc. Henry 
Wheaton (1785-1848) was the first to write on International 
Law. 

Miscellaneous Writers, Essayists, Critics, etc. 

Margaret Fuller (Marchioness Ossoli) (1810-1850), 
born at Cambridge, Massachusetts, was one of the most gifted 
women of her age, in her precociousness as a child resembling 
Mrs. Browning. At an early age, under the guidance of her 
father, she had mastered the classics. Her ripened intellect 
and individual modes of thinking, made her a congenial 
friend of Emerson's. She chose teaching as her vocation, and 
afterwards, in Providence and Boston, established classes in 
conversation, which were attended by ladies of culture. In 
1844 she undertook the charge of the literary department of 
the "New York Tribune," having previously assisted Emer- 
son in editing the "Dial." Her writings are numerous and 
on a variety of subjects — criticisms on literature and art, 
and essays on the social problems of the day. In 1846 she 
accompanied some friends to Europe. During her stay in 
Rome she made the acquaintance of Marquis Ossoli, to whom 
she was afterwards married. She, with her husband, took a 
warm interest in the cause of Italian liberty. In 1850 they 
embarked for America with their one child. The vessel was 
wrecked almost within sight of home, and among the pas- 
sengers drowned was Margaret Fuller-Ossoli, her husband, 
and child. 

Henry Reed (1808-1854), as genial in his lectures on litera- 
ture as Hazlitt, was born in Philadelphia, and made literature 
his profession. Returning from Europe after a brief sojourn, 
he, like Margaret Fuller, was wrecked on the shores of his 



MISCELLANEOUS WRITERS. 427 

native land.* His works, published by his brother, "William 

B. Reed (1806 ), show the finest literary taste and culture. 

They are Lectures on English Literature^ Lectures on English 
History as Illustrated hy Shakespeare'' s Plays, Lectures on the 
British Poets, and two lectures on the History of the American 
Union. 

The literary and art criticisms of Horace Binney Wal- 
lace (1817-1852) were not published until after the author's 
death. He had written learned articles on civil and commercial 
law, but until his works on Art and Scenery in Europe, and 
Literary Criticisms and Other Papers were collected and pub- 
lished after his death, f the full extent of his ability was not 
known. Like Henry Reed, he was born in Philadelphia and 
educated at the University of Pennsylvania. 

Lydia Maria Child (1802-1880) was one of the most enter- 
taining writers of the age, and her stories for children among 
the best that were written. She early devoted herself to the 
cause of humanity. Among her works are Hohomok^ a Tale 
of Early Times; The Eehels, a Tale of the Revolution; Philothea, 
a romance of Greece in the days of Pericles ; a History of the 
Condition of Women in all Ages and Nations, The Mother^s 
Book, An Appeal in Favor of that class of Americans called 
Africans, Facts and Fiction^ Flowers for Children, and Biogra- 
phies of Isaac T. Hopper, Madame de Sta'el and Madame Poland, 
Letters from New York, Progress of Religious Ideas through the 
Ages, Autumnal Leaves, Looking towards Sunset, and a Romance 
of the Republic. 

GuLiAN C. Yerplanck (1787-1870) is chiefly known by his 
edition of Shakespear-e^s Plays, with a Life and Critical Notes. 

RuTus W. Griswold (1815-1857), by his biographical 
sketches of persons famous in literature, did a work which 
should not be undervalued. His literary criticisms may be 
trite, but he was the first to present in chronological order 
the writers of this country. His chief works are The Poets and 
Poetry of America, The Prose Writers of America, The Female 
Writers of America. 



* He was lost on the steamer Arctic, September 27, 1854. 

t These works were collected and published by his brother, John William Wallace. 



428 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Noah Webster (1758-1843), after a lapse of twenty years, 
completed in 1828 his celebrated Dictionary.'^ He had through 
a long period of teaching and of literary work given his mind 
to philological studies. His well-known spelling-book appeared 
originally in the introduction to his Grammatical Institute of 
the English Language. 

Joseph E. Worcester (1784-1865) published at first numer- 
ous educational works, — Histories., Geographies, and excellent 
Epitomes of History. In 1821 he began editing Johnson^s Dic- 
tionary. Soon after he made an abridgment of Webster's, and 
finally began his own well-known Dictionary, which was com- 
pleted in 1846. 

Illustrations of the Literature of the Period, from 
1800 to 1850. 

JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. 
From The Culprit Fay. 

IV. 

They come from beds of lichen green, 
They creep from the mullen's velvet screen; 

Some on the backs of beetles fly 
From the silver tops of moon-touch'd trees, 

Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high, 
And rock'd about in the evening breeze; 

Some from the hum-bird's downy nest, — 
They had driven him out by elfin power. 

And, pillow'd on plumes of his rainbow breast, 
Had slumber'd there till the charmed hour; 

Some had lain in the scoop of the rock. 
With glittering ising-stars inlaid; 

And some had open'd the four-o'clock. 
And stole within its purple shade. 

And now they throng the moonlight glade. 
Above — below — on every side, 

Their little minim forms array' d 
In the tricksy pomp of fairy pride! 



* It has been at various times amended and increased. 



LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 429 



V. 

For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow ; 
He has loved an earthly maid, 
And left for her his woodland shade ; 
He has lain upon her lip of dew, 
And siinn'd him in lier eye of blue. 
For this the shadowy tribes of air 

To the elfin court must haste away : — 
And now they stand expectant there, 

To hear the doom of the culprit Fay. 

VIII. 

"Thou shalt seek the beach of sand 
Where the water bounds the elfin land; 
Thou shalt watch the oozy brine 
Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moonshine. 
Then dart the glistening arch below. 
And catch a drop from his silver bow. 
The water sprites will wield their arms 

And dash around, with roar and rave, 
And vain are the woodland spirits' charms, 

They are the imps that rule the wave. 
Yet trust thee in thy single might : 
If thy heart be pure and thy spirit right, 
Thou shalt win the warlock fight. 

IX. 

"If the spray-bead gem be won. 

The stain of thy wing is wash'd away : 

But another errand must be done 
Ere thy crime be lost for aye ; 

Thy flame-wood lamp is quench' d and dark 

Thou must reillume its spark. 

Mount thy steed and spur him high 

To the heaven's blue canopy ; 

And when thou seest a shooting star, 

Follow it fast, and follow it far, — 

The last faint spark of its burning train 

Shall light the elfin lamp again. 

Thou hast heard our sentence, Fay; 

Hence ! to the water-side, away ! " 

* The fairy's successful endeavor to " catch a drop from the silver bow " of the 



430 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



XXV. 

He put his acorn hemlet on; 

It was plumed of the silk of the thistle-down. 

The corselet plate that guarded his breast 

Was once the wild bee's golden vest; 

His cloak of a thousand mingled dyes, 

Was form'd of the wings of butterflies ; 

His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, 

Studs of gold on a ground of green; 

And the quivering lance which he brandish'd bright, 

Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. 

Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed; 

He bared his blade of the bent grass blue; 
He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed, 

And away like a glance of thought he flew, 
To skim the heavens, and follow far 
The fiery trail of the rocket-star. 

xxvn. 

Up to the vaulted firmament 

His path the fire-fly courser bent. 

And at every gallop on the wind, 

He flung a glittering spark behind ; 

He flies like a feather in the blast 

Till the first light cloud in heaven is past. 

XXIX. 

Oh ! it was sweet, in the clear moonlight. 

To tread the starry plain of even. 
To meet the thousand eyes of night, 

And feel the cooling breath of heaven! 
But the Elfin made no stop or stay 
Till he came to the bank of the milky way, 
Then he check'd his courser's foot. 
And watch'd for the glimpse of the planet-shoot. 

■3f -Jf -Sf -jf -X- 

He is successful. The stain on his wing is washed away ; his flame- 
wood lamp is rekindled, and the glad fairies " hail the wanderer again," 
and twining 



sturgeon, and his return to the shore, are exquisitely told, but for want of space 
cannot be given, 



LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 



In a jocund ring, 
Sing and trip it merrily, 

Hand to hand, and wing to wing, 
Kound the wild witch-hazel tree. 

* * -x- * * 



FITZ-GREENE HALLEOK. 

Burns. 

4f * * * * 

There have been loftier themes than his, 
And longer scrolls, and louder lyres, 

And lays lit up with Poesy's 
Purer and holier fires: 

Yet read the names that know not death ; 

Few nobler ones than Burns are there ; 
And few have won a greener wreath 

Than that which binds his hair. 

His is that language of the heart 

In which the answering heart would speak, 
Thought, word, that bids the warm tear start, 

Or the smile light the cheek ; 

And his that music, to whose tone 

The common pulse of man keeps time, 

In cot or castle's mirth or moan, 
In cold or sunny clime. 

And who hath heard his song, nor knelt 
Before its spell with willing knee, 

And listen' d, and believed, and felt. 
The Poet's mastery? 

•3f -Sf -Sf -5f * 



EDGAR ALLAN POE. 

Ulalume. 

The skies they were ash'en and sober ; 

The leaves they were crisped and sere — 
The leaves they were withering and sere ; 

It was night in the lonesome October 
Of my most immemorial year; 



432 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, 
In the misty mid region of Weir — 

It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, 

In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. 

Here once, through an alley Titanic, 

Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul — 

Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul. 
These were days when my heart was volcanic 

As the scoriae rivers that roll — 

As the lavas that restlessly roll 
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek 

In the ultimate climes of the pole — 
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek 

In the realms of the boreal pole. 

Our talk had been serious and sober, 

But our thoughts they were palsied and sere — 
Our memories were treacherous and sere — 

For we knew not the month was October, 

And we marked not the night of the year — 
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!) 

We noted not the dim lake of Auber — 

(Though once we had journeyed down here) — 

Eemembered not the dank tarn of Auber, 

Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. 

And now, as the night was senescent 

And star-dials pointed to morn — 

xA.s the star-dials hinted of morn — 
At the end of our path a liquescent 

And nebulous lustre was born. 
Out of which a miraculous crescent 

Arose with a duplicate horn — 
Astarte's bediamond-ed crescent 

Distinct with its duplicate horn. 

And I said, "She is warmer than Dian: 
She rolls through an ether of sighs- 
She revels in a region of sighs : 

She has seen that the tears are not dry on 
These cheeks, where the worm never dies, 

And has come past the stars of the Lion 



LITERATURE OF TEE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 438 



To point us the path to the skies — 

To the Lethean peace of the skies — 
Come up, in despite of the Lion, 

To shine on us with her bright eyes — 
Come up through the lair of the Lion, 

With love in her luminous eyes." 

But Psyche, uplifting her finger, 

Said, * Sadly this star I mistrust — 

Her pallor I strangely mistrust : — 
Oh, hasten ! — oh, let us not linger ! 

Oh, fly ! — let us fly ! — ^for we must." 
In terror she spoke, letting sink her' 

Wings until they trailed in the dust- 
In agony sobbed, letting sink her 

Plumes till they trailed in the dust — 

Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust. 

I replied, "This is nothing but dreaming: 

Let us on by this tremulous light ! 

Let us bathe in this crystalline light ! 
Its Sybilic splendor is beaming 

With Hope and in Beauty to-night : — 

See !— it flickers up the sky through the night ! 
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming, 

And be sure it will lead us aright — 
We safely may trust to a gleaming 

That cannot but guide us aright. 

Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night." 

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her. 
And tempted her out of her gloom — 
And conquered her scruples and gloom ; 

And we passed to the end of the vista. 

But were stopped by the door of a tomb — 
By the door of a legended tomb ; 

And I said, " What is written, sweet sister, 
On the door of this legended tomb?" 
She replied, "Ulalume — Ulalume — 
'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume ! " 



Then my heart it grew ashen and sober 

As the leaves that were crisped and sere — 
37 2C 



434 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



As the leaves that were withering and sere, 

And I cried, " It was surely October 
On this very night of last year 
That I journeyed — I journeyed down here — 
That I brought a dread burden down here — 
On this night of all nights in the year, 
Ah, what demon has tempted me here? 

Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber— = 
This misty mid region of Weir — 

Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber, 
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir." 

LYMAN BEECHER. 

From A Sermon on the Sin of TRAFFlfcKiNG in Ardent 

Spirits. 

Has not God connected with all lawful avocations the welfare of the 
life that now is and of that which is to come ? And can we lawfully 
amass property by a course of trade which fills the land with beggars, 
and widows, and orphans, and crimes; which peoples the graveyard 
with premature mortality, and the Avorld of woe with the victims of 
despair ? Could all the forms of evil produced in the land by intem- 
perance come upon us in one horrid array, it would appall the nation, 
and put an end to the traffic in ardent spirits. If in evexy dwelling 
built by blood the stone from the wall should utter all the cries which 
the bloody trafiic extorts, and the beam out of the timber should echo 
them back, who would build such a house ? and who would dwell in it ? 

WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 

From Address on Self-Culture. 

Every man, in every condition, is great. It is only our own diseased 
sight which makes him little. A man is great as a man, be he where or 
what he may. The grandeur of his nature turns to insignificance all 
outward distinctions. His powers of intellect, of conscience, of love, of 
knowing God, of perceiving the beautiful, of acting on his own mind, 
on outward nature, and on his fellow-creatures, — these are glorious pre- 
rogatives. Through the vulgar error of undervaluing what is common, 
we are apt, indeed, to pass these by as of little worth. But, as in the 
outward creation, so in the soul, the common is the most precious. 
Science and art may invent splendid modes of illuminating the apart- 
ments of the opulent ; but these are all poor and worthless, compared 



LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 435 



with the common light which the sun sends into all our windows, which 
he pours freely, impartially, over hill and valley, which kindles daily 
the eastern and western sky : and so the common lights of reason, and 
conscience, and love, are of more worth and dignity than the rare endow- 
ments which give celebrity to a few. Let us not disparage that nature 
which is common to all men ; for no thought can measure its grandeur. 
It is the image of God, the image even of his infinity, for no limits can 
be set to its unfolding. He who possesses the divine powers of the soul 
is a great being, be his place what it may. You may clothe him with 
rags, may immure him in a dungeon, may chain him to slavish tasks. 
But he is still great. You may shut him out of your houses ; but God 
opens to him heavenly mansions. He makes no show, indeed, in the 
streets of a splendid city ; but a clear thought, a pure affection, a reso- 
lute act of a virtuous will, have a dignity of quite another kind, and 
far higher than accumulations of brick, and granite, and plaster, and 
stucco, however cunningly put together. 

It is force of thought which measures intellectual, and so it is force of 
principle which measures moral, greatness, — that highest of human en- 
dowments, that brightest manifestation of the Divinity. The greatest 
man is he who chooses the Right with invincible resolution, who resists 
the sorest temptations from within and without, who bears the heaviest 
burdens cheerfully, who is calmest in storms and most fearless under 
menace and frowns, whose reliance on truth, on virtue, on God, is most 
unfaltering. I believe this greatness to be most common among the 
multitude, whose names are never heard. Among common people will 
be found more of hardship borne manfully, more of unvarnished truth, 
more of religious trust, more of that generosity which gives what the 
giver needs himself, and more of a wise estimate of life and death, 
than among the more prosperous. In these remarks you will see why I 
feel and express a deep interest in the obscure, — in the mass of men. 
The distinctions of society vanish before the light of these truths. I 
attach myself to the multitude, not because they are voters and have 
political power, but because they are men, and have within their reach 
the most glorious prizes of humanity. 

WASHINGTON IRVING. 

From Knickerbocker's History of Neav York. 

The person of this illustrious old gentleman was formed and propor- 
tioned as though it had been moulded by the hands of some cunning 
Dutch statuary, as a model of majesty and lordly grandeur. He was 
exactly five feet six inches in height, and six feet five inches in circum- 



436 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



ference. His head was a perfect sphere, and of such stupendous dimen- 
sions, that dame Nature, with all her sex's ingenuity, would have been 
puzzled to construct a neck capable of supporting it ; wherefore she 
wisely declined the attempt, and settled it firmly on the top of his 
back-bone, just between the shoulders. His body was oblong, and par- 
ticularly capacious at bottom ; which was wisely ordered by Providence, 
seeing that he was a man of sedentary habits, and very averse to tlie 
idle labor of walking. His legs were short, but sturdy in proportion to 
the weight they had to sustain ; so that when erect he had not a little 
the appearance of a beer-barrel on skids. His face— that infallible in- 
dex of the mind — presented a vast expanse, unfurrowed by any of those 
lines and angles which disfigure the human countenance with what is 
termed expression. Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly in the midst, 
like two stars of lesser magnitude in a hazy firmament ; and his full- 
fed cheeks, which seemed to have taken toll of everything that went 
into his mouth, were curiously mottled and streaked with dusky red, 
like a spitzenberg apple. 

His habits were as regular as his person. He daily took his four 
stated meals, appropriating exactly an hour to each ; he smoked and 
doubted eight hours, and he slept the remaining twelve of the four-and- 
twenty. Such was the renowned Wouter Van Twiller, — a true philoso- 
pher ; for his mind was either elevated above, or tranquilly settled be- 
low, the cares and perplexities of this world. He had lived in it for 
years, without feeling the least curiosity to know whether the sun revolved 
round it, or it round the sun ; and he had watched, for at least half a 
century, the smoke curling from his pipe to the ceiling, without once 
troubling his head with any of those numerous theories by which a 
philosopher would have perplexed his brain, in accounting for its 
rising above the surrounding atmosphere. 

The Alhambra by Moonlight. 

The moon, which then was invisible, has gradually gained upon the 
nights, and now rolls in full splendor above the towers, pouring a flood 
of tempered light into every court and hall. The garden beneath my 
window is gently lighted up, the orange and citron trees are tipped with 
silver, the fountain sparkles in the moonbeams, and even the blush of 
the rose is faintly visible. 

I have sat for hours at my window inhaling the sweetness of the gar- 
den, and musing on the checkered features of those whose history is 
dimly shadowed out in the elegant memorials around. Sometimes I 
have issued forth at midnight when everything was quiet, and have 



LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 437 



wandered over the whole building. Who can do justice to a moonlight 
night in such a climate and in such a place ? The temperature of an 
Andalusian midnight, in summer, is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted 
up into a purer atmosphere ; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of 
spirits, an elasticity of frame, that render mere existence enjoyment. 
The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra has something like en- 
chantment. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and 
weather-stain, disappears, the marble resumes its original whiteness, the 
long colonnades brighten in the moonbeams, the halls are illuminated 
with a softened radiance, until the whole edifice reminds one of the 
enchanted palace of an Arabian tale. 

At such time I have ascended to the little pavilion called the Queen's 
Toilette, to enjoy its varied and extensive prospect. To the right, the 
snowy summits of the Sierra Nevada would gleam like silver clouds 
against the darker firmament, and all the outlines of the mountain 
would be softened, yet delicately defined. My delight, however, would 
be to lean over the parapet of the tocador, and gaze down upon Granada, 
spread out like a map below me, all buried in deep repose, and its white 
palaces and convents sleeping as it were in the moonshine. 

Sometimes I would hear the faint sounds of castanets from some party r 
of dancers lingering in the Alameda ; at other times 1 have heard the 
dubious tones of a guitar, and the notes of a single voice rising from 
some solitary street, and have pictured to myself some youthful cavalier 
serenading his lady's window, — a gallant custom of former days, but 
now sadly on the decline, except in the remote towns and villages of 
Spain. 

Such are the scenes that have detained me for many an hour loiter- 
ing about the courts and balconies of the castle, enjoying that mixture 
of reverie and sensation which steal away existence in a Southern cli- 
mate, — and it has been almost morning before I have retired to my 
bed, and been lulled to sleep by the falling waters of the fountain of 
Lindaraxa. 

PRESCOTT. 

From the History of Ferdinand and Isabella. 
Queen Isabella. 

Her person was of the middle height, and well proportioned. She 
had a clear, fresh complexion, with light blue eyes and auburn hair, — 
a style of beauty exceedingly rare in Spain. Her features were regular, 
and universally allowed to be uncommonly handsome. The illusion 
37 * 



438 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



which attaches to rank, more especially when united with engaging 
manners, might lead us to suspect some exaggeration in the encomiums 
so liberally lavished on her. But they would seem to be in a great 
measure justified by the portraits that remain of her, which combine a 
faultless symmetry of features with singular sweetness and intelligence 
of expression. 

Her manners were most gracious and pleasing. They were marked 
by natural dignity and modest reserve, tempered by an affability which 
flowed from the kindliness of her disposition. She was the last person 
to be approached with undue familiarity ; yet the respect which she 
imposed was mingled with the strongest feelings of devotion and love. 
She showed great tact in accommodating herself to the peculiar situation 
and character of those around her. She appeared in arms at the head 
of her troops, and shrunk from none of the hardships of war. During 
the reforms introduced into the religious houses, she visited the nunner- 
ies in person, taking her needlework with her, and passing the day in 
the society of the inmates. When travelling in Galicia, she attired her- 
self in the costume of tlie country, borrowing for that purpose the jewels 
and other ornaments of the ladies there, and returning them with lib- 
eral additions. By this condescending and captivating deportment, as 
well as by her higher qualities, she gained an ascendency over her tur- 
bulent subjects which no king of Spain could ever boast. 

She spoke the Castilian with much elegance and correctness. She 
had an easy fluency of discourse, which, though generally of a serious 
complexion, was occasionally seasoned with agreeable sallies, some of 
which have passed into proverbs. She was temperate even to abste- 
miousness in her diet, seldom or never tasting wine, and so frugal in her 
table, that the daily expenses for herself and family did not exceed the 
moderate sum of forty ducats. She was equally simple and economical 
in her apparel. On all public occasions, indeed, she displayed a royal 
magnificence ; but she had no relish for it in private ; and she freely 
gave away her clothes and jewels as presents to her friends. Naturally 
of a sedate, though cheerful temper, she had little taste for the frivol- 
ous amusements which make up so much of a court life ; and, if she 
encouraged the presence of minstrels and musicians in her palace, it 
Avas to wean her young nobility from the coarser and less intellectual 
pleasures to which they were addicted. 

Among her moral qualities, the most conspicuous, perhaps, was her 
magnanimity. She betrayed nothing little or selfish in thought or 
action. Her schemes were vast, and executed in the same noble spirit 
in whicli they were conceived. She never employed doubtful agents or 



LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 439 



sinister measures, but the most direct and open policy. She scorned to 
avail herself of advantages ofiered by the perfidy of others. Where she 
had once given her confidence, she gave her hearty and steady support ; 
and she was scrupulous to redeem any pledge she had made to those 
who ventured in her cause, however unpopular. She sustained Ximenes * 
in all his obnoxious but salutary reforms. She seconded Columbus in 
the prosecution of his arduous enterprise, and shielded him from the 
calumny of his enemies. She did the same good service to her favorite, 
Gonsalvo de Cordova ; and the day of her death was felt, and, as it 
proved, truly felt, by both, as the last of their good fortune. Artifice 
and duplicity were so abhorrent to her character, and so averse from 
her domestic policy, that, when they appear in the foreign relations of 
Spain, it is certainly not imputable to her. 

WILLIAM WIRT. 

From A Letter to his Daughter. 

I want to tell you a secret. The way to make yourself pleasing to 
others is to show that you care for them. The whole world is like the 
miller of Mansfield, who cared for nobody— no, not he — because no- 
body cared for him ; " and the whole world will serve you so if you 
give them the same cause. Let every one, therefore, see that you do 
care for them, by showing them what Sterne so happily calls, " the small, 
sweet courtesies of life," — those courtesies in which there is no parade, 
whose voice is too still to tease, and which manifest themselves by ten- 
der and affectionate looks, and little, kind acts of attention — giving 
others the preference in every little enjoyment, at the table, in the field, 
walking, sitting, or standing. This is the spirit that gives to your time 
of life and to your sex its sweetest charm. It constitutes the sum-total 
of all the witchcraft of woman. Let the world see that your first care 
is for yourself, and you will spread the solitude of the Upas-tree around 
you, and in the same way, by the emanation of a poison which kills all 
the kindly juices of affection in its neighborhood. Such a girl may be 
admired for her understanding and accomplishments, but she will never 
be beloved. The seeds of love can never grow but under the warm and 
genial influence of kind feeling and affectionate manners. Vivacity 
goes a great way in young persons. It calls attention to her who dis- 
plays it, and, if it then be found associated with a generous sensibility, 
its execution is irresistible. On the contrary, if it be found in alliance 
with a cold, haughty, selfish heart, it produces no farther effect, except 



* Confessor to Isabella. 



440 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



an adverse one. Attend to this, my daughter : it flows from a heart that 
feels for you all the anxiety a parent can feel, and not without the hope 
which constitutes the parent's highest happiness. May God protect and 
bless you ! 

DANIEL WEBSTER. 

The Nature of True Eloquence. 
True eloquence does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought 
from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. 
Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot 
compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. 
Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may 
aspire after it, — they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like 
the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of 
volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. 

England. 

She has dotted the surface of the whole globe with her possessions 
and military posts, whose morning drum-beat, following the sun and 
keeping company with the hours, circle the earth daily with one con- 
tinuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England. 

The Morning. 

It is morning, and a morning sweet, and fresh, and delightful. Every- 
body knows the morning in its metaphorical sense, applied to so many 
objects, and on so many occasions. The health, strength, and beauty of 
early years lead us to call that period the " morning of life." But the 
morning itself few people, inhabitants of cities, know anything about. 
Among all our good people, not one in a thousand sees the sun rise 
once a year. They know nothing of the morning. With them, morn- 
ing is not a new issuing of light, a new bursting forth of the sun, a new 
waking up of all that has life, from a sort of temporary death, to behold 
again the works of God, the heavens and the earth ; it is only part of 
the domestic day, belonging to breakfast, to reading the newspapers, 
answering notes, sending the children to school, and giving orders for 
dinner. The first streak of light, the earliest purpling of the east, 
which the lark springs up to greet, and the deeper coloring into orange 
and red, till at length the " glorious sun is seen, regent of day," — this 
they never enjoy, for they never see it. 

I know the morning, — I am acquainted with it, and I love it. I love 
it, fresh and sweet as it is, a daily new creation, breaking forth and call- 
ing all that have life and breath and being to new adoration, new enjoy- 
ments, and new gratitude. 



LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD FROM 1800 TO 1850. 441 



The Love of Home. 

A man who is not ashamed of himself need not be ashamed of his 
early condition. It did not happen to me to be born in a log-cabin, but 
my elder brothers and sisters were born in a log-cabin, raised among 
the snow-drifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early, that when the 
smoke first rose from its rude chimney and curled over the frozen hills, 
there was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation between it 
and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. 

Its remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I carry my 
children to it, to teach them the hardships endured by the generations 
which have gone before them. 1 love to dwell on the tender recollec- 
tions, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narratives 
and incidents which mingle with all 1 know of this primitive family 
abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now 
among the living ; and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if ever I fail in 
affectionate veneration for him who reared it, and defended it against 
savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic virtues be- 
neath its roof, and, through the fire and blood of a seven years' revo- 
lutionary war, shrunk from no danger, no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his 
country, and to raise his children to a condition better than his own, 
m&.y my name, and the names of my posterity, be blotted forever from 
the memory of mankind ! 

LYDIA MARIA CHILDS. 

A Street Scene. 
The other day I was coming down Broome Street. I saw a street 
musician, playing near the door of a genteel dwelling. The organ was 
uncommonly sweet and mellow in its tones, the tunes were slow and 
plaintive, and I fancied that I saw in the woman's Italian face an ex- 
pression that indicated sufficient refinement to prefer the tender and 
melancholy, to the lively " trainer tunes " in vogue with the populace. 
She looked like one who had suffered much, and the sorrowful music 
seemed her own appropriate voice. A little girl clung to her scanty 
garments, as if afraid of all things but her mother. As I looked at them, 
a young lady of pleasing countenance opened the window, and began 
to sing like a bird, in keeping with the street organ. Two other young 
girls came and leaned on her shoulder ; and still she sang on. Blessings 
on her gentle heart ! It was evidently the spontaneous gush of human 
love and sympathy. The beauty of the incident attracted attention. A 
group of gentlemen gradually collected round the organist : and even 
as the tune ended, they bowed respectfully towards the window, waving 



442 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



their hats, and calling out, " More, if you please ! " One, whom I knew 
well for the kindest and truest soul, passed round his hat ; hearts were 
kindled, and the silver fell in freely. In a minute, four or five dollars 
were collected for the poor Avoman. She spoke no word of gratitude, 
but she gave such a look ! Will you go to the next street, and play to 
a friend of mine?" said my kind-hearted friend. She answered, in 
tones expressing the deepest emotion, " No, sir; God bless you all— God 
bless you a//," (making a curtsey to the young lady, who had stepped back, 
and stood sheltered by the curtain of the window) " I will play no more 
to-day ; I will go home now." The tears trickled down her cheeks, and 
as she walked away, she ever and anon wiped her eyes with the corner 
of her shawl. The group of gentlemen lingered a moment to look after 
her, then turning towards the now closed window, they gave three en- 
thusiastic cheers, and departed, better than they came. The pavement 
on which they stood had been a church to them ; and for the next hour, 
at least, their hearts were more than usually prepared for deeds of gen- 
tleness and mercy. Why are such scenes so uncommon ? Why do we 
thus repress our sympathies and chill the genial current of nature, by 
formal observances and restraints ? 

Unselfishness. 

I found the Battery unoccupied, save by children, whom the weather 
made as merry as birds. Everything seemed moving to the vernal tune of 

"Brignal banks are fresh and fair, 
And Greta woods are green." 

To one who was chasing her hoop, I said, smiling, " You are a nice 
little girl." She stopped, looked up in my face, so rosy and happy, and 
laying her hand on her brother's slioulder, exclaimed earnestly, " and 
he is a nice little boy, too ! " It was a simple, child-like act, but it 
brought a warm gush into my heart. Blessings on all unselfishness ! on 
all that leads us in love to prefer one another. Here lies the secret of 
universal harmony ; this is the diapason, which would bring us all into 
tune. Only by losing ourselves can we find ourselves. How clearly 
does the divine voice within us proclaim this, by the hymn of joy it 
sings, whenever we witness an unselfish deed, or hear an unselfish 
thought. Blessings on that loving little one ! She made tlie city seem 
a garden to me. I kissed my hand to her, as I turned off* in quest of 
the Brooklyn ferry. The sparkling waters swarmed with boats, some 
of which had taken a big ship by the hand, and were leading her out 
to sea, as the prattle of childhood often guides wisdom into the deepest 
and broadest thought. 



SYLLABUS. 



HENRY REED. 

Best Method of Keading. 

It is not unfreqiiently tliouglit that the true guidance for habits of 
reading is to be looked for in prescribed courses of reading, pointing 
out the books to be read, and the order of proceeding with them. Now, 
while this external guidance may to a certain extent be useful, I do be- 
lieve that an elaborately prescribed course of reading would be found 
neither desirable nor practicable. It does not leave freedom enough to 
the movements of the reader's own mind ; it does not give free enough 
scope to choice. Our communion with books, to be intelligent, must be 
more or less spontaneous. It is not possible to anticipate how or when 
an interest may be awakened in some particular subject or author, and 
it would be far better to break away from the prescribed list of books, 
in order to follow out that interest while it is a thoughtful impulse. It 
would be a sorry tameness of intellect that would not, sooner or later, 
work its way out of the track of the best of any such prescribed courses. 
This is the reason, no doubt, why they are so seldom attempted, and 
why, when attempted, they are so apt to fail. 

Syllabus. 

The literary life of America dates from the beginning of the nineteenth 
century. 

The principal poets contemporary with Byron were Drake and Halleck. 
Many of the American poets of the first part of the century were famous 
for a single poem. 

Among the poems were Hail Columbia, The Star- Spangled Banner, 
Home, Sweet Home, etc. 

The older poets of the present day were rising into notice. 
Bryant was known before 1825. 

Longfellow, Whittier, Emerson, and Lowell were known before 1840. 
The principal poems of Drake are The Culprit Fay and The American 
Flag. 

Poe belongs to the first half of the century. 

Other poets of the time were Washington Allston, N. P. Willis, George 
P. Morris, Alfred B. Street, Frances Osgood, H. F. Gould, John Pierpont, 
James Gates Pereival. 

A few dramatic writings were produced. 

Charles Brockden Brown was the first American novelist. 



444 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



James Fennimore Cooper ranks highest amoug American novelists 
who had appeared before 1850. 

Scientific writers were Wilson, Audubon, Silliman, Thompson, and 
others. 

Theology was represented in the Trinitarian branch of the church by 
Lyman Beecher, John M. Mason, Moses Stuart, etc., and in the Unitarian 
by William Ellery Channing, Henry Ware, Sr., and his sons Henry and 
William Ware, Andrews Norton, and others. 

Moses Stuart was one of the finest Biblical scholars of the age. 

The Avorks of Channing belong essentially to literature, and he is better 
known by his Essays than by his theological writings. 

The most prominent writer of the time was Washington Irving. 

Prescott had written before 1850 hi?, History of Ferdinand and Isabella, 
Conquest of 3Iexico, and Conquest of Peru. 

Other writers of history and biography were Jared Sparks, William 
Wirt, John Marshall, Timothy Flint, etc. 

Oratory flourished in the early days of the Republic. 

Among the chief orators and statesmen were John Quincy Adams, 
Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, Alexander and Edward 
Everett. 

Margaret Fuller was a friend of Emerson. She, with Emerson, edited 
the " Dial." 

Henry Reed was one of the most promising of American critics. 
Horace Binney Wallace, like Reed, gave great promise of excellence as 
a critic. Both were natives of Philadelphia. 

Lydia Maria Child was a prolific and delightful writer. 

Mrs. Kirkland wrote humorous sketches of Western pioneer life. 

Verplanck edited Shakespeare's works with notes. 

Griswold furnished numerous volumes of biographical sketches of 
authors, with selections from their works. 

Noah Webster completed his Dictionary in 1828. 
Worcester's Dictionary was completed in 1846. 




CHAPTER XVII. 
The Age of Emerson. 

1850—1882. 

"VrO period was ever marked with footsteps of progress like 
XM those within the last fifty years — progress in science, in 
art, in literature and humanity. It is encouraging to see, the 
world over, that the most valuable product of intellectual cul- 
ture is a higher moral culture, and that both are mainly 
the results of written or spoken thoughts. It is impossible to 
estimate the value of literature — the refining influence of its 
poetry, the thought quickened by its philosophy, tlie nobler 
action shaped by its oratory, and the kindlier sympathy induced 
by its stories of every-day life. 

It is well for a nation to pay just tribute to its great think- 
ers and writers. It was said of a Danish poet* that "his 
death set a whole empire weeping," and no more touching 
evidence of the refining, beneficent influence of poetry and 
true thinking, in our own country, could be given than the 
universal bereavement lately felt in the death of our loved 
poets, and the sage whom his own generation delights to 
honor, and whom posterity with clearer vision will perceive in 
truer relations.! 



* Adam Gottlob Ohlenscblager (1779-1850). 

t You cannot see the mountain near.— Emerson's Essay on Shakespeare the PoeU 

38 445 



446 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Poets. 

LONGFELLOW. 

It is perhaps not too much to say that there never was a 
poet more widely loved than Henry Wadsworth Long- 
fellow. The man was not less loved than his songs. All 
the genial spirit of his lays emanated from his own genial spirit. 

" All the many sounds of nature 
Borrowed sweetness from his singing, 
All the hearts of men were softened 
By the pathos of his music. 
■X- * * * ■ 

He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
He, the sweetest of all singers ! 
He has gone from us forever, 
He has moved a little nearer 
To the Master of all music. 
To the Master of all singing ! " 

Thus he sang of Hiawatha's poet-friend, and it now may be 
fitly said of himself. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) was born at 
Portland, Me. He graduated at Bowdoin College in 1825, A 
professorship of modern languages was offered him, and to 
further qualify himself for the position, he spent three years 
in France, Spain, Italy, and Germany. In 1829 he entered 
upon the duties of his professorship at Bowdoin. On the resig- 
nation of George Ticknor from the chair of modern languages 
at Harvard, Longfellow was elected to that position. Again 
he went abroad— this time to study the languages of the North. 
Returning the next year, he assumed his professorship at Cam- 
bridge, in which position he remained until 1854. He still, 
however, continued to reside in Cambridge, in the "Craigie 
House," memorable not only as the Revolutionary headquar- 
ters of Washington, but as being the college quarters of several 
of the distinguished men of the country besides Longfellow.* 
Mr. Longfellow purchased the house in 1843, the same year in 
which he married Miss Appleton. 



* Mrs. Craigie, when in reduced circumstances, let out rooms in the grand old 
mansion to the students of Harvard— to Everett, Worcester, Sparks and others. 



THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



447 



The care with which the poet prepared himself for every 
duty is clearly reflected in his writings. The song of the 
Builders was his creed : 

"Build, to-day, then, strong and sure, 
With a firm ai^ ample base; 
And ascending and secure 
Shall to-morrow find its place." 

Could we sum up the daily labors of the hardest-working 
men, they would not seem more laborious than the work of 
our greatest literary men. While at Bowdoin as a student— 
consequently before his eighteenth year — Longfellow had 
written the Hyran of the Moravian Nuns, Sunrise on the Hills, 
and The Spirit of Poetry. Many of his early works are reminis- 
cences of foreign travels. Outre Mer, a Pilgrimage Beyond the 
Sea, and his translation of Coplas de Manrique (verses of Man- 
rique ^) appeared in 1835. Hyperion, a prose romance, was 
published in 1839, also a collection of poems called Voices of 
the Night. He was at this time contributing to the "North 
American Review" and to the "Knickerbocker Magazine." 
In 1841 Ballads and other Poems was published, and in 1842, 
Poems on Slavery. His first drama, Tlie Spanish Student, was 
written in 1843. The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems fol- 
lowed in 1845. The same year he published The Poets and 
Poetry of Europe, with biographical sketches. Many of the 
translations he made himself. In 1847 the most celebrated of 
his poems, Evangeline, appeared, and in 1849, Kavanah, a Tale; 
then followed a volume of poems called The Seaside and the 
Fireside, and in 1851 that most melodious drama. The Golden 
Legend. In 1855, Hiawatha, an Indian Edda, appeared, un- 
rhymed and with no attempt at alliteration even, the beautiful 
trochaic measure flowing on so softly that rhyme was not 
needed. Miles Standish was written in 1858, in the same meas- 
ure as Evangeline. The Tales of a Wayside Inn was the next 
collection of poems. Flower-de-Luce and New England Tragedies 
appeared the same year (1863). Again Mr. Longfellow visited 
Europe, and, returning, published in 1870 a translation of 
Dante'^s Divina Comedia, and in 1872 his second drama. The 



* Jorge Manrique, a Spanish poet of the fifteenth century. 



448 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Divine Tragedy. The Golden Legend, New England Tragedies, 
and The Divine Tragedy are published in a volume called 
Cliristus. Morituri Salutamus was a poem delivered at Bow- 
doin College in 1879. 

BKYANT. 
IT 

One of the earliest poets of this century, yet one whom we 
love to think upon as our contemporary, was William Cullen 
Bryant (1794-1878). He was born in Cummington, Massa- 
chusetts, where he resided much of his life. He was remarka- 
ble as a child for his thoughtfulness, and in his tenth year par- 
aphrased the first chapter of the book of Job, and wrote other 
poems, which, though immature, were published in the " Hamp- 
shire Gazette. " Before he was fourteen he wrote the Embargo, 
a political satire, which became so popular that a second edition 
was demanded, when he produced with it several additional 
poems. His most popular poem, Thanatopsis, was written at 
the age of eighteen, and To a Waterfoivl, when he was twenty- 
one. Both show equal seriousness of thought. Thanatopsis 
is, as its name implies, a view of death. The youth of eighteen 
did not speculate on the hereafter ; he simply trusted, and 
herein lies the exceeding beauty of the poem. ^ The last stanza 
is surcharged with the spirit of trust. Earth is described as 
the tomb of man, and the mountains, vales, and woods as the 
decorations of that tomb. The poem is material in its struc- 
ture, but none the less poetical. The fact that man's body 
shall mingle with the elements, and become part and parcel 
of the clod that covers him, does not stay the soul in its on- 
ward career. The lines To a Waterfowl, which followed soon, 
suggest the flight of a disembodied soul. 

In 1827 Bryant became editor of the "New York Evening 
Post," which position he held until the close of his life. He 
entered into every political conflict, and " never waited to catch 
the breath of popular opinion before flinging abroad his stand- 
ard." Quick to perceive the right, he was as ready to espouse it. 

His first visit to Europe was in 1834. Six times he travelled 
abroad. In 1845 he took up his residence at Roslyn, Long Isl- 
and, where he spent most of his time until his death, varying 
it each year with short residences at the old homestead at 
Cummington, and at his city home in New York. Never 



THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



449 



feeling excused from labor," he began in his seventy-first year 
*the translation of the Iliad, and in six years' time, in 1871, 
completed the Iliad and Odyssey. The Flood of Years was writ- 
ten in his eighty-second year. Bryant's love of nature is 
everywhere visible in his writings. The woods were his great 
delight. There is sometimes a marked resemblance between 
Bryant and Thomson. 'No one can read Bryant's Forest Hymn 
and Thomson's Hymn to the Seasons without observing it. 
The Death of the Flowers shows the poet's close companionship 
with nature. Nothing could be more delicately accurate than 
the succession of flowers as they spring and fade before us in 
the beautiful lines : 

"The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, 

And the brier-rose and orchis died amid the summer glow ; 

But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood. 

And the yellow sunflower by the brook In autumn beauty stood. 

Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven, as falls the plague on men. 

And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade and glen." 

In one line he paints the peculiar lustre of the waters in the 
hazy -light of autumn, and the line preceding it is almost equal 
in beauty, descriptive of the serene stillness of an Indian sum- 
mer day : 

" When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, 
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill." 

Waiting hy the Gate is one of his later poems. In the serene 
majesty of his calm old age, he says : 

" And, in the sunshine streaming on quiet wood and lea, 
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me." 

A still older poet than Bryant — indeed, the patriarch of 
4-inerican poets— was Kichard Henry Dana (1787-1879), 
already mentioned in the preceding chapter.* 

WHITTIER. 

A strong, sweet singer, mellowing with every ripening year, 
is. John Greenleaf Whittier (1807 ). A spirit of ear- 
nest conviction expresses itself in ringing tones against all 



38* 



* See page 414. 

2D 



450 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE 



forms of oppression. His later songs overflow with tlie fulness 
of thanksgiving, 

" And come like the benediction 
That follows after prayer." 

An insight into his early home life he himself gives in his 
poem Snow Bound. He was born in Haverhill, Massachusetts, 
but since 1840 has resided at Amesbury, in his native State. 
He is perhaps the only one of our poets that has not travelled 
abroad, but he has the happy faculty of conducting his readers 
over wide ranges of foreign lands, while he sits snugly at his 
own fireside. 

Whittier's style is thoroughly individual, and as recognizable 
as the footstep or voice of a friend. It often consists of unex- 
pected and just metaphors or of homely phrases, which through 
his touch become instinct with poetic life. 

No poet has more minutely observed nature, nor more truly 
painted her glowing colors or traced her subtler influences. 
Erom him we learn what his Barefoot Boy learned from the 
book of nature. 

He is eminently the poet of humanity. If there is less of the 
ring of steel in his later poems, there is more rich fulness in 
them. The bounty of the glowing autumn, the gracious plen- 
itude of Divine love, are reflected in his mellowed words, and 

all the jarring notes of life 

Seem blending in a psalm, 
And all the angles of its strife 

Slow rounding into calm. 

Among his earlier poems are Voices of Freedom. Songs of La- 
bor, Ballads, etc. Later poems are, In War Times, Snow 
Bound, The Tent on the Beach, National Lyrics, Poems for Public 
Occasions, etc. 

■ James Eussell Lowell (1819 ) has given evidence of 

the highest creative genius, with happiest facility in expres- 
sion. His early satires display unmatched wit and brihiant 
humor. While not so popular as others, some of his poems 
must be regarded as the gems of American literature. Excell- 
ing in poetry he essayed criticism, and in that broad humane 
art produced some of the finest prose. In 1845 his Conver- 



THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



451 



sations on Some of the Old Poets appeared, which every lover 
of Uterature should read. Several years previous he had 
published a volume of poems, and subsequently other poems, 
among which are The Vision of Sir Launfal^^ and A Fable for 
Critics— the latter an amusing and more or less just char- 
acterization of his brother poets. The Biglow Papers, a satire 
against the Mexican war and the slave power, was written in 
the Yankee dialect, and pubhshed in 1848. A second series of 
the Biyloio Papers was written during the Civil War. This satire 
was pointed against the English nation for the neutral attitude 
assumed by her. Later poems of Mr. Lowell's are Under the 
Willoivs and The Cathedral. His best prose essays and criti- 
cisms are contained in Among my Pools and My Study Window. 
Mr. Lowell was born at Cambridge, Massachusetts, and gradu- 
ated at Harvard in 1838. f In 1855 he succeeded Longfellow 
as Professor of Belles-Letters in that institution. In 1877 he 
was appointed United States Minister to Spain, and in 1880 
to England. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809 ), like Lowell, was 

born at Cambridge, Massachusetts. He graduated at Harvard, 
and, having chosen the medical profession, was in 1847 elected 
to the Professorship of Anatomy in that university. Like 
Hood — like most humorous poets, indeed — he combines mirth 
and pathos in his nature, the one as sincere as the other. In 
poetry he is best known by his humorous poems and lyrics — 
The One-Hoss Shay, The Boys, Union and Liberty, Old Iron- 
sides, etc. He was one of the originators of the "Atlantic 
Monthly," to which he contributed, in its earliest stages, the 
Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table, a species of essay with a story 
interwoven. This was followed by the Professor at the Break- 
fast-Table and The Poet at the Breakfast- Table, published after- 
wards under the title of Elsie Venner (a novel). The Guardian 
Angel (a novel) appeared in 1867. 

The poetry of JoHisr Godfrey Saxe (1816 ) is char- 
acterized by keen wit, little softened with genial humor. 



* The Vision of Sir Launfal might be termed " the high-water mark " of American 
poetry. Some portious of it seem to be a response to Wordsworth's Ode to Immortality. 

t Tn 1844 Mr. Lowell was married to Miss Maria White, herself a poetess. She died 
in 1853. Her best known poem is the Alpine Sheep. 



f 



452 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Some of his poems — his travesties, especially — are the most 
brilliant in the language. 

Among the first of satirists on social follies was William 

Allen Butler (1825. ). His inimitable poem, Nothing 

to Wear., was followed by Two Millions and General Average. 

Among a later class of poets, though not the latest, are Bay- 
ard Taylor, B. H. Stoddard, T. B. Kead, and George H. 

BOKER. 

Bayard Taylor (1825-1878), eminent as poet, traveller, 
and novelist, was born in Kennett Square, Pa. His expressed 
ambition "to enjoy as large a store of experience as this earth 
can furnish " gives the key-note to his life. The poetic instinct 
was the strongest in his nature, and it was not alone the curi- 
osity to see the world that urg6d him alike over frozen regions 
of the North and into vine-clad Southern lands, but to become 
part and parcel of those lands, — to see, taste, feel, and breathe 
all the fulness that life affords. This the amplitude of his nature 
craved, that he might give the fullest utterance to song. The 
poetry of Bayard Taylor is a rich legacy to American litera- 
ture. 

Success seemed to crown even his earliest endeavors. At 
the age of seventeen he became an apprentice in a printing- 
oflEice at West Chester, devoting all of his leisure hours to study 
and improvement. During this time he wrote manj^ poems, 
which he contributed to "Graham's Magazine " and "*The New 
York Mirror." These were collected, and in 1844 published in 
a volume entitled Ximena. This little book met with a favorable 
reception, and with some advances made by leading journals, 
the young author was enabled to commence his series of travels. 
For two years he journeyed on foot through England, Scot- 
land, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and France, and on his 
return to America published the result of his travels under 
the title of Views Afoot; or^ Europe Seen with Knapsack and 
Staff. In 1848, Mr. Taylor, who had already become known 
through the columns of the "New York Tribune," became 
permanently associated with that journal. Visiting California 
in 1849 and returning by way of Mexico, he communicated to 
the "Tribune " an account of his travels. These letters, after- 
wnrrls collected, were entitled Eldorado. In 1851 he set out 



THE AGE OF EMERSOK. 



453 



upon an Eastern tour, and his history of this is contained in 
the three works: A Journey to Central Africa; The Lands of 
the Saracens; and India^ China, and Japan. In 1856 he took a 
i^orthern journey through Sweden, Korway, Lapland, Dalma- 
tia, and Eussia, of which he subsequently published graphic 
accounts. Other travels and sketches followed. 

The poems of Mr. Taylor after his first venture Ximena, 
were lihymes of Travel; The American Legend; Book of Bo- 
mances, Lyrics, and Songs; Poems of the Orient; Poems and 
Ballads; Poems of Home and Travel; The PoeVs Journal; The 
Picture of St. John; The Golden Wedding; The Ballad of Abra- 
ham Lincoln; Lars, a Pastoral of Norway; Home Pastorals, 
Ballads, and Lyrics; The National Ode {July 4, 1876). The 
Echo Club is a collection of poems written in imitation of con- 
temporary poets, and connected by a dialogue of prose, con- 
taining wholesome, kindly criticism. 

Mr. Taylor was as familiar with the literature of Germany 
as with that of his own tongue, and his translations of 
Goethe's Faust is the finest English translation. He also 
translated from the Swedish Frithiof 's Saga. 

The novels from this author are Hannah Thurston; John 
Godfrey^ s Fortunes; The Story of Kennett, and Joseph and his 
Friend. Poetry, however, was his peculiar realm. As a color- 
ist, he especially excelled. The glory of our autumnal forests 
furnished him with unfading hues. The last work of this 
poet was the drama entitled Prince Deukalion. Other dramas 
had preceded this ; The Prophet, a tragedy, is a five-act drama, 
founded on the early history of Mormonism. The Masque of 
the Gods, a drama of three dialogues, was published in 1872. 

Under the administration of President Hayes, Mr. Taylor 
was appointed United States Minister to Germany, where he 
died in 1878. 

Thomas Buchanan Eead (1822-1872), like Bayard Taylor, 
was born in Chester County, Pa. Nurtured among the rugged 
hills of his native place, and beside the historic waters of the 
Brandywine, his young imagination was filled with pictures of 
ideal beauty and with the heroic traditions of the past. Blindly 
groping, as true born poets have often done, for some avenue 



454 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



of expression, he sought first to give his ideas form in sculp- 
ture and painting. His best thoughts, however, found expres- 
sion in poetry, and, although he wrote comparatively little, 
some of his poems are gems of the language. The Closing 
Scene contains lines not surpassed by Gray's Elegy. He has 
caught the very spirit of autumn, as so many of our American 
poets have done. His war lyric, Sheridan''s Ride, has a popu- 
larity as great as "Marco Bozzaris." His longest poem is the 
Wagoner of the Alleghenies. In pursuit of art, much of this 
poet's life was spent in Italy. He died in J^ew York just after 
his return from Eome. 

George H. Bokek (1824 ) was born in Philadelphia. 

His writings are mainly of a dramatic nature. Calaynos is a 
tragedy, founded on the hostility between the Moorish and 
Spanish races. The scene is laid in Spain. Anne BoJeyn is 
another tragedy, likewise Leonor de Guzman and Francesca da 
Rimini. Other dramas are The Widoiv''s Marriage., The Be- 
trothal., The Podesta'^s Daughter., a dramatic sketch, etc. Among 
his principal poems are The Ivory Carver., The Black Regiment., 
A Ballad of Sir John Franklin^ The Book of the Dead, etc. 

Mr. Boker was appointed United States Minister to Constan- 
tinople in 1871, and was afterwards transferred to St. Peters- 
burg. 

KiCHARD Henry Stoddard (1825 ) gave early promise 

of poetic genius, which has ripened into fullest fruition. He 
was born in Hingham, Massachusetts, but at ten years of age 
became a resident of New York city. His principal works are 
Footprints, a collection of poems ; Songs of Summer, The King'^s 
Bell, In Memoriam, The Book of the East. In 1877 he delivered 
a poem entitled History before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at 
Harvard University. The spirit which suffuses his poetry not 
unfrequently reminds the reader of Wordsworth. Mr. Stod- 
dard ranks also as a critic and biographer. 

Christopher P. Cranch (1813 ) and W. W. Story 

(1819 ), in the few poems they have written, show the dis- 
cipline of art studies and the intensity of the true poet. The 
poems of W. W. Story are scarcely excelled by his wonderful 
achievements in statuary. 

Dr. J. G. Holland (1819-1881) became popular as a poet 



THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



455 



after writing Bitter Sweet and Kathrina. He had previously 
been known by his Timothy Titcornh'^s Letters. He was more 
successful as a novelist. Arthur Bonnicastle^ Seven OaA's, Miss 
GilherVs Career, Nicholas Minturn.^ etc., are his principal novels. 

The two sisters, Alice (1820-1871) and Phebe Gary (1825- 
1871), were born in Ohio, but removed to JSTew York in 1850, 
where they drew around them a circle of loving friends, and 
won for themselves worthy names in literature. Their Poet- 
ical Works have be^n published together, with a memorial of 
their lives by Mrs. Mary Clemmer. 

Recent poets have brought us into closer contact with West- 
ern life in its ruder as well as its grander features. JoAQUiisr 

Miller (Cincinnatus Heine Miller) (1841 ), was born 

in Indiana, but passed much of his time in the remoter West. 
Visiting London in 1870, and publishing there a volume of 
poems, he became instantly popular with the new school of 
pre-Raphaelite poets. His poems are Songs of the Sierras, Songs 
of the Sun-Land, The Ship in the Desert, etc. 

Francis Bret Harte (1837 ) was born in Albany, 

N. Y., but at an early age went to California, where he be- 
came teacher, miner, and editor. In his dialect poems he has 
reproduced in mingled humor and pathos the life he saw there. 
Among the poems of this character are the Heathen Chinee, Li 
the Tunnel, Jim, Society upon the Stanislaus, etc. He has also 
written poems in pure English. His prose sketches or novels 
are The Luck of Roaring Camp, The Outcasts of Poker Flat, 
Tennessee^s Partner, etc. 

Others who have written poems in various dialects are John 
Hay and W. W. Carleton, who have not only celebrated 
rough Western life, but various phases of homely, common 

country life; Charles G. Leland (1824 ), as "Hans 

Breitmann," represented the German element of the country, 
and Irwin Russell as successfully reproduced the negro 
characteristics. 

Many of our writers who have given evidence of the best 
poetic ability have, like Lowell, been beguiled into other paths 
of literature, enriching both prose and poetry. Among these 
may be named J. T. Trowbridge, T. B. Aldrich, and E. C. 
Stedman. 



456 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



For true delineations of boy life, J. T. Trowbridge (1827- 
) lias no equal. Darius Green and Coupon Bonds are ex- 
amples. Country life and homely human nature he delineates 
with the skill of genius. 

T. B. Aldrich (1836 ) first won favor by his poems 

Bdbie Bell, The Face against the Pane, etc., but more interest 
attaches to his short stories and sketches. The Story of a Bad 
Boy, Marjorie Daw, etc. 

Edward Clarence Stedman (1833 ), known mainly 

through his magazine articles, is at once poet and critic. Be- 
sides a volume on the Victornan Poets, he has written numerous 
kindly critiques on our own best writers. His poems show a 
high order of poetic genius. Alice of Monmouth and The Blame- 
less Prince are among his poetical works. 

The luxuriance of Southern imagination is seen in the poems 
^ of Sidney Lanier, Henry Timrod, Paul H. Hayne, and 
others. The latter has especially excelled in lyric poetry. 
His . Sonnets are of the highest order. 

The magazine literature of this country has been enriched, 
also, by the poetry of Margaret J. Preston, Elizabeth 
Akers Allen, Nora Perry, Lucy Larcom, Kose Terry 
Cooke, Celia Thaxter, Mr. and Mrs. Piatt, W. D. How- 
ells, Julia Ward Howe, William Winter, George P. 
Lathrop, etc. 

The Novelists, etc. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne (1805-1864) is the acknowledged 
head of American novelists. He was born at Salem, Mass., 
and graduated at Bowdoin College in the same class with 
Longfellow. He was for a time associated with the "commu- 
nity " at " Brook Farm," where so many of the literati of that 
time w'ere to be found. In 1843 he took up his residence in 
the "Old Manse" at Concord, celebrated in his sketches. 
After filling several government offices, he was appointed by 
President Pierce, from 1853 to 1857, as Consul at Liverpool. 
He had published various short stories and sketches, which, 
when collected in 1837, he called The Twice-Told Tales. During 
his three years' residence at the "Old Manse " he wrote sketches 
for the various magazines, which were collected in 1847 under 



THE NOVELISTS, ETC. 



457 



the title of Mosses from an Old Manse. His novels, which were 
published afterwards, are The Scarlet Letter.^ The House of Seven 
Gables.^ The Blithedale Bomance, and The Marble Faun. 

Hawthorne takes first rank among American prose writers. 
In a surprising manner he blends the morbid with the perfectly 
healthy element. He is not in the broadest sense a satirist, 
yet he lays bare the follies of mankind ; and so delicate is his 
touch that you perceive his own shrinking, sensitive nature. 

Harriet Beecher Stowe (1812 ), through the writing 

of Uncle TonVs Cabin., became at the time the most popular au- 
thor in existence. This story, so full of pathos, so touchingly 
real in its delineations, found readers in every part of the civil- 
ized world. It was translated into every language that pos- 
sessed a literature. Her other stories were less successful, or 
rather were dimmed in the light of her first novel. TJ}icle Tom''s 
Cabin was finished in 1852. Afterwards appeared from the 
same pen Dred, a Tale of the Dismal Swam}) ; The Miyiister^s 
Wooing; The Pearl of Orr^s Island; Agnes of Sorento ; Pink and 
White Tyranny ; My Wife and I; Old Town Folks. 

ISTumerous novelists existed, and several novels had wonder- 
ful popularity. The Hidden Path., and Alone, by "MARiojq; 
Harlaj^d " (Mrs. Terhune) ; The Lam^olighter, by Miss 

Maria S. Cummins ( 1866) ; The Wide, Wide World, 

Queechy, etc., by Susan Warner. 

A new order of fiction was ushered in with Theodore Win- 
THROP's (1828-1861) John Brent, and his posthumous novel 
Cecil Dreeme. 

Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, after publishing short 
stories in magazines, gave evidence of greater power by her 
novel That Lass o' Lowries, Haworth''s, Louisiana, A Fair Bar- 
barian, and Through One Administration. 

Edward Eggleston (1837 ) came into public notice by 

the publication of the Hoosier Schoolmaster. He has since 
written The End of the World, The Mystery of Metropolisville, 
The Circuit Eider, Boxy, etc. 

Julian Hawthorne (1846 ), son of the great writer, 

has written Bressant, Idolatry, Garth, Dust, and several minor, 
magazine stories. . --..s 

39 



458 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



William Dean Howells (1837 ) writes sketches and 

stories in a style of great excellence, and so accurate in de- 
scription that they serve as guide-books in travel. Among 

these are Venetian Life, Italian Journey^ Suburban Sketches^ 
Their Wedding Journey, A Chance Acquaintance, A Foregone 
Conclusion. 

Henry James, Jr. , has written many magazine stories, — A 
Passionate Pilgrim, Boderick Hudson, The American, The Eu- 
ropeans, Watch and Ward, Transatlantic Sketches, Daisy 3Iiller, 
Confidence, etc. 

Hjalmer Hjorth Boyesen, a Norwegian, who has lived 
in this country several years, contributes to magazine liter- 
ature beautiful stories of Norseland. Harriet Prescott 

Sfofford (1835 ), with luxuriant fancy and brilliancy of 

style, wrote The Amber Gods, Sir Bohan''s Ghost, Azarian, Neio 

England Legend, etc. Miss Louisa May Alcott (1832 ), 

in healthy natural vein, wrote Little Women, Little Men, 
Old-Fashioned Girl, Work, 3Ioods, etc. Mrs. A. D. T. Whit- 
ney (1824 ), in like healthful manner, has furnished the 

best of stories. Among these are Faith Gartney'^s Girlhood, 
The Gayicorthys, A Summer in Leslie Goldthwaite''s Life, Pa- 
tience Strong''s Outings, Hitherto, Real Folks, We Girls, etc. Mrs. 

Louise Chandler Moulton (1835 ) first became known 

as a magazine writer. Some of her collected stories are pub- 
lished under the title of So7ne Women^s Hearts. Mrs. Kebecca 
Harding Davis exhibited great powers of delineation in her 
Life in the Iron Mills, Waiting for the Verdict, Tenth of January, etc. 

Writers of Short Sketches and Stories for 
Children. 

The present age is remarkable for its production of excellent 
short studies, stories and sketches, and for its wealth of Chil- 
dren's Literature. The numerous magazines of the country 
are usually the repositories of these productions. 

James T. Fields (1820-1879), by his extensive personal 
acquaintance with writers on both sides of the Atlantic, 
brought innumerable readers into closer sympathy with au- 
thors. Beminiscences of his own association with these are 
embodied in his Lectures and Yesterdays vnth Authors. 



HUMORISTS. 



459 



"H. H.," Mrs. Helen Hunt Jacksoist, in her Bits of 
Travel., Bits of Talk, and numerous short Sketches., full of the 
liveliest human sympathy, has produced delightful reading for 
the home circle. Her latest work, A Century of Dishonor, reveals 
the wrongs of the Indian. 

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps (1844 ) became known 

through the publication of Gates Ajar. This was followed by 
short stories, Women., and Ghosts. She has also written 

various novels. 

The gifted family of Stockto^ts— John D.,* Frank E., 
and Louise Stockton!— have devoted themselves to litera- 
ture, and their sketches and stories for old and young are 
hailed with equal delight. They also rank as journalists. 

It is a peculiar delicate genius that can adapt itself to the 
wants of childhood. Among those who have contributed to 
young folks' literature, entering with hearty sympathy into 
their healthful sports, or awakening nobler ambitions, are 
Frank R. Stockton, Abby Morton Diaz, Mary Mapes 
Dodge, Lucretia P. Hale, Hjalmer Hjorth Boyesen, 
etc. 

Humorists. 

There is but one department of American literature that can 
with any propriety be termed distinctively " American," and 
that is the department of humor. Certain conditions, phrases, 
etc., only understood by the people of a nation, are humorous 
in proportion as they are justly appreciated, consequently each 
nationality must be in this feature of its literature more or less 
"peculiar." There is, however, a broad and universal humor 
appreciable to all. When Emerson speaks of getting "people 
out of the quadruped state, washed, clothed, and set up on end," 
it is understood by all regardless of locality. But when the 
humor consists mainly of idiomatic irregularities, it is of 
necessity peculiar. In reviewing American literature, we find 
a fine vein of humor in it from nearly the earliest times. 

The Charcoal Sketches of Joseph C. Neal (1807-1847) fur- 

* John D. Stockton ^836-1877) was poet, critic, and journalist, 
t Rev. Thomas H.Stockton (1808-1868), a half-brother, was distinguished as a pul- 
pit orator. 



460 



BISTORT OF A3IERICAN LITERATURE. 



nished entertainment to a host of. readers, as did the Portrait- 
ures of Yankee Life^ or Way DownEast^ by Seba ^iith ("Major 
Jack Downing,") (1792-1868); "Mrs. PARTmGTON's " sajdngs 
originated with Benjamin P. Shillaber (1814 ); " Petro- 
leum V. i^ASBY" (D.R. Loel^e, 1833 ); "Artemus Ward " 

(Charles F. Browne, 1836-1867), and others, depended largely 
upon whimsical spelling to aid in their humor. 
The humor of "Mark Twain"" (Samuel L. Clemens, 

1835 ) "is at its best the foamy break of the strong tide 

of earnestness."* That indeed may be said of many or most of 
the greatest humorists that ever lived, or, as Mrs. Browning 
expressed it : ^ 
^ " The root of some grave, earnest thought is understruck so rightly 
As to justify the foliage and the waving flowers above." 

The Sparrowgrass Papers of Frederick S. Cozzei^"S (1818- 
1869), and My Summer in a Garden, by Charles Dudley 

Warker (1829 ), belong to the same class of humor. 

There is, however, more of human sympathy and a more deli- 
cate play of fancy in the productions of Mr. Warner. Some 
of his other sketches are Back Log Studies, Baddeck, and That 
Sort of Thing, Being a Boy, etc. The Gilded Age was the joint 
product of this author and Mark Twain. 

Scientists, Political Economists, etc. 

Louis John" Eudolph Agassiz (1807-1873) was born in 
Switzerland. Coming to the United States in 1847, he was 
appointed Professor of Zoology, etc., in Harvard University. 
His principal works are Methods of Study in Natural History, 
Geological Sketches, The Structure of Animal Life. A Journey in 
Brazil was the joint product of Prof. Agassiz and Mrs. 
Agassiz. 

Edward Hitchcock (1793-1864) and James Dwight Dana 

(1813 ) are celebrated in Geology. In 1848, Arnold 

Henry Guyot (1807 ), a Swiss and a friend of Prof. 

Agassiz, came to this country, and soon after published a work 
entitled The Earth and Man. Becoming a Professor at Prince- 
ton College, he published text-books on Geography, etc. Dr. 



* W. D. Howells, in The. Century, September, 1882, 



SCIE.YTJSTS, POLITICAL ECONOMISTS, ETC. 461 

Joseph Leidy, of Philadelphia, ranks among the first scien- 
tists of this country. 

John W. Draper (1811-1882) was born in England. He 
came to the United States in 1833, and graduated at the medi- 
cal department of the • University of Pennsylvania. Soon 
after he became Professor of Chemistry in the University of 
Xew York. His principal works are History of the Intellectual 
DeveJopment of Europe, History of the American Civil War^ The 
Conflict of Science and Religion. 

John Fiske, soon after graduating at Harvard in 1864, 
became known, as a thinker and brilliant scholar. His chief 
works are Outlines of Cosmic PhilosoijJiy, Myths and Mi/th-3Iakers, 
The Unseen World and other Essays, published frequently in 
the different magazines. 

In philological studies, W. D. Whitney (1827 ), Profes- 
sor in Yale College, is the acknowledged head. He has writ- 
ten Language and the Science of Language. F. A. March (1825 

), Professor of Comparative Philology in Lafayette College, 

has written numerous works to advance the study to which he 
has devoted many years of labor. George P. Marsh (1801- 
1882) wrote numerous works on language and literature, the 
principal of which are his Lectures on the English Language, 
The Origin, History, and Literature of the English Language, 
Man and Nature, or physical Geography Modified by Human 
Actions^ A Grammar of the Icelandic, etc. 

James McCosh (1811 ), President of Princeton College, 

is ranked as the first of living metaphysical writers. He was 
born in Scotland, and came to the United States in 1868. His 
principal works are The Intuitions of the Mind, MilVs Philos- 
ophy, Method of Divine Government, Logic, Christianity and 
Positivism. 

Francis Wayland (1796-1865), President of Brown Uni- 
versity, was the author of works on Moral Science, Intellectual 
Philosophy, Political Economy, etc. 

Horace Mann (1796-1859*, the Dr. Arnold of this country, 
is mainly known as a teacher. For the last seven years of 
his life he was President of Antioch College, but his activity 
in the cause of education, and in every good cause, was much 



462 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



earlier. When, after toiling througli hardships, he obtained 
an education in his native State of Massachusetts, he first 
awakened in the State Legislature an earnest interest in pub- 
lic instruction. His Lectures on Education, Bexjort of an Educa- 
tional Tour through Germany, Great Britain, etc., and A Few 
Thoughts for a Young 3Ian on Entering Life, are some of his 
published works. 

In political science, Theodore D. TYoolsey (1801 ) 

takes an eminent rank. For the most of his life he was asso- 
ciated with Yale College, as student. Professor, President, and 
member of the corporation. He was President of the college 
for twenty-five j^ears. While Professor of Greek, he edited 
with great ability four or five Greek classics. But his chief 
works are An Introduction to the Study of International Laic, 
Essays on Divorce and Divorce Legislation, Political Science, or 
the State Theoretically and Practiccdly Considered, and sermons 
on Serving Our Generation, and GocVs Guidance in Youth. A 
more voluminous writer on political economy was Hexey C. 
CaFvEY (1793-1879), of Philadelphia, regarded as the founder 
of a new school of political science. The last portion of his life 
was devoted to advocating a protective tariff. Charles Sum- 
2SER (1811-1874), succeeding Daniel Webster as Senator from 
Massachusetts, like Milton, devoted his talents and life to the 
cause of human liberty. His great orations are The True Gran- 
deur ofKations and The Barharism of Slavery. The former, de- 
livered in 1815, is an argument in favor of peace. 

Theological. 

With the expansion which moral and intellectual culture 
bring, and the wider sympathies which result from extended 
knowledge, the petty boundary of creeds grows faint, and ear- 
nest men and women have learned not only to tolerate but to 
respect varying opinions in religion, when held or advocated 
by earnest, enlightened people. - 

Among the innumerable throng of theologians who have by 
their learning, or their original modes of thinking, added to 
hterature, or promulgated doctrines in religion and life, may 
be named Albert Barnes (1798-1870), Addisox Alexander 
(1809-1860), Theodore Parker (1810-1860), Orestes A. 



HISTORIANS. 



463 



Brownson (1803-1876), John McClintock (1814-1870), C. P. 
MclLVAmE (1798-1873), Charles Hodge (1797-1878), John 
Hughes (1797-1864), Martin John Spalding (1810-1872), 

Dudley A. Tyng (1825-1858), Philip Schaff (1819 ), 

Horace Bushnell (1802 ), George B. Cheever (1807 

), George W. Bethune (1805-1862), William H. Pur- 

NESS (1802 ),ORyiLLE Dewey (1794 ), John Henry 

Hopkins (1792-1868), George W. Doane (1799-1859), Fran- 
cis Wayland (1796-1865), Ja^ies McCosh (1811 ), W. G. 

T. Shedd (1820 ), Mark Hopkins (1802 ), W. S. 

Plumber, (1802 ), Charles P. Krauth (1823 ), 

Henry Ward Beecher (1813 ), Nehemiah Adams 

(1806 ), Henry W. Bellows (1814-1882), Robert Coll- 

YER (1823 ), Stephen H. Tyng (1800 ), Francis 

Patrick Kenrick (1797-1863), Theodore D. Woolsey 

(1801 ), Edward Amasa Park (1808 ), Andrew P. 

Peabody (1811 ), Edward H. Chapin (1814 ), Phil- 
lips Brooks, etc. 

Historians. 

America, like every otlier country, has produced her triad 
of historians — Bancroft, Prescott, and Motley. The 
greatest historian of the affairs of this country is George Ban- 
croft (1800 ). By diligent study and careful reflection, 

he prepared himself for his great work. The History of the United 
States. The first volume was completed in 1834, the last in 
1874, the author during the interval having been actively en- 
gaged in the atfairs of government as Secretary of the Xavy 
and as Minister to England and Prussia. 

Mr. Bancroft was born at Worcester, Mass. He entered 
Harvard at thirteen, and, having graduated, went to Gottingen, 
where he studied two years, travelling afterwards through 
Europe, and returning to America one of the most accomplished 
scholars of the age. 

Prescott, already mentioned as contemporary with Irving, 
wrote his History of Ferdinand and Isabella, Conquest of Mexico, 
and Conquest of Peru, before 1850. His last work, The History 
of the 'Reign of Philip the Second, he was engaged in writing at 
the time of his death in 1859. 



464 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



John Lothrop Motley (1814-1877) was bom at Dorches- 
ter, Mass. Like Bancroft, he was educated at Harvard, studied 
two years at Gottingen, and twice filled the office of foreign 
minister, once to Austria and once to England. His first work 
was The Else of the Di^tch Eepublic, which, on its first appear- 
ance in 1856, became instantly popular. This was followed by 
the History of the United Netherlands. In 1874 he published 
The Life of John of Barneveld. 

Other historians are Richard Hildreth (1807-1865), author 
of a History of the United States. Benson J. Lossme (1813 

), whose works are both history and travel, wrote a Field- 

Book of the Bevolution, a History of the War of 1812, Pictorial His- 
tory of the Civil War, etc. Alexander H. Stepi-iens (1812 

), a History of the War between the States, Tracing Its Origin^ 

Causes, and Besidts, etc. Francis [^arkman (1823 ) is 

author of The Conspiracy of the Pontiac, The Jesuits of America, 
The Discovery of the Great West, The Pioneers of France in 

the New World, etc. John Gorham Palfrey* (1796 ) 

wrote a valuable History of New England. John Gilmary 

Spiea (1824 ), a History of Catholic Missions among the 

Indian Tribes, The Catholic Church of the United States, Legen- 
dary History of Ireland, etc. George Ticknor (1791-1871), 
the learned predecessor of Longfellow in Harvard, wrote a 
History of Sjmnish Literature. The two brothers, Jacob (1803 

) and J. S. C. Abbott (1805 ), have written numerous 

entertaining histories for old and young. 

Biographers. 

Jared Sparks (1794-1866), besides his principal works, The 
Life of Washington and The Life of Franklin, and DiploDiatic 
Correspondence of the American Bevolution, edited a series of 
American biographies (twenty -five volumes). John Foster 

Kirk (1824 ), Prescott's private secretary, has written a 

history of Charles the Bold. George Ticknor, besides the His- 
tory of Spanish Literature, wrote the Life of Prescott, and earlier 
the Life of Lafayette. James Parton (1822 ) has been a pop- 
ular biographer,* most of his sketches appearing in the pages of 
one or the other of the magazines. In the department of biog- 
raphy there was no more genial writer than James T. Fields, 



PERIODICAL LITERATURE, 



465 



Periodical Literature. 

Kumerous periodicals were started during the last century. 
^^^one took permanent standing until the middle of this century, 
and none in the early part of it had an age exceeding ten 
years excepting the " Port-Folio," published in Philadelphia by 
Dennie, from 1801 to 1825, and one or two others. From 1803 to 
1808 the "Literary Magazine " in Philadelphia was published 
by Chas. Brockden Brown. "The Monthly Anthology," from 
1803-1811, in Boston. " The Monthly Kegister " (Charleston, 
1805) was the first Southern periodical. " Atkinson's Casket " 
(Philadelphia 1821-1839) was displaced by " G-raham's Maga- 
zine." The "Southern Liberty Gazette " was established in 
1825; " The ]N'ew York Mirror," edited for the most part by 
George P. Morris and P. Willis, from 1823 to 1842. The 
"Gentleman's Magazine " (Philadelphia, 1837-1840) by Burton 
and Edgar A. Poe. The " Dial " (Boston, 1840-1844) was edited 
the first two years by Margaret Fuller, and afterwards by Emer- 
, son. The "Knickerbocker Magazine," founded in New York 
trj by C. ^. Hoffman in 1832, continued in existence until 1860 ; 
"Putnam's Monthly " (Kew York) from 1850-1857, and again 
from 1867-1869 ; "Harper's N'ew Monthly Magazine," New 
York, 1850 ; the "Atlantic Monthly," Boston, 1857 ; " Scribner's 
Monthly " (" The Century Illustrated Magazine "), New York, 
1870. Others more recently established are " The Galaxy " 
(New York), " Lippincott's " (Philadelphia), "Old and New " 
(Boston), "The Overland Monthly " (San Francisco), and the 
" Lakeside Monthly " (Chicago). " Our Continent " is a weekly 
periodical established in 1882 by Albion W. Tourgee. Maga- 
zines consisting of reprints from foreign periodicals or writings 
are " Littell's Living Age " (Boston, 1844), and the "Eclectic 
Magazine" (New York, 1844). 

The first Eeview started in this country was the "American 
Review," by Robert Walsh, in Philadelphia, 1811-1813. The 
more permanent "North American Review" was started in 
Boston by Tudor, 1815, "The American Quarterly Review " 
(Philadelphia, 1827-1837), "The Southern Review" (Charles- 
ton, 1828-1832), "The Western Review" ^Cincinnati, 1828- 
1830), etc., etc. Periodical literature for children is represented 
by the "Young Folks' Magazine," "St. Nicholas," "The Wide 

2E 



466 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Awake," "The Youth's Companion," etc., etc. Periodical 
Eeligious literature is also copiously supplied, representing 
every denomination in the country. 

Journalism is represented by Horace Greeley (1811-1872), 
founder of the "Kew York Tribune ; " James Gordon Ben- 
nett (1800-1872), founder of " The New York Herald ; " Henry 
J. Kaymond (1820-1869), founder of " The New York Times." 

Edwin L. Godkin (1831 ) established "The Nation" 

(New York), 1865. George D. Prentice (1802-1870), for 
forty years editor of the " Louisville Journal," was among the 
most distinguished journalists of his day. He was also a poet 
and wit of high order. 

Encyclopedists. 

Those who have done for this country that which the Cham- 
bers' brothers in England did for the universe of letters, are 
Dr. Joseph Thomas, of Philadelphia, whose Gazetteer and 
Universal Dictionary of Biography and Mythology are of incal- 
culable value to every reader and student ; the Duyckinck 
brothers of New York, who published in 1856 an Encyclopaedia 
of American Literature; S. A. Allibone (1816 — — ), author of 
a Critical Dictionary of English Literature., and of British and 
American Authors; E. W. Griswold (1815-1857), author of 
Poets and Poetry of America. 

Essayists, Critics, and Miscellaneous Prose 
Writers. 

Henry T. Tuckerman (1813-1871), like Lowell one of the 
most genial of critics, by his appreciation of excellence, his 
refined poetic sympathies, and his liberal culture did an inesti- 
mable work for American literature. E. P. Whipple (1819 

), who ranks with Tuckerman as a critic and essayist, lacks 

the genial sympathy of the former, but is candid and sincere. 

Eev. Edward Everett Hale (1822 ) is a delightful 

writer for young and old. Some of his works are The Man 
without a Country^ My Double and How He Undid Me; If., Fes, 
and Perhaps; Ten Times One; Ninety Days'* Worth of Europe, 
Philip Nolan'' s Friends., etc., besides numerous Sermons and 
stories for children. How to Do It contains what all young 
people desire to know. 



MISCELLANEOUS PROSE WRITERS. 467 



Colonel T. W. Higginson has written Atlantic Essays., Out- 
Boor Papers., Oldport Days, Army Life in a Black Begiment., 
Young Folks'' History of the United States^ Malhone (a novel), etc. 

George William Curtis (1824 ) has long been known 

in literature. Some of his most popular works are the Potipliar 
Papers (a social satire), Prue and J, Trumps., etc. 

Donald G. Mitchell ("Ik Marvell") wrote Dream Life, 
Reveries of a Bachelor, My Farm at Edgewood, Seven Stories, etc. 

" Gail Hamilton " (Mary Abigail Dodge, 1838 ) wrote 

A New Atmosphere, Gala Days,§^oman''s Wrongs, Country Liv- 
ing, Wool Gathering, Battle of the Books, Wo77ien^s Work and 
Worthlessness, etc. 

Henry D. Thoreau (1817-1862), an original thinker and 
writer, was born at Concord, but eschewing the cultured so- 
ciety of his native town, chose the woods for his habitation, 
and building for himself a house fifteen feet long by ten feet 
wide, he observed nature, read and matured, and wrote his re- 
flections. His works are Walden, or Life in the Woods; The 
Maine Woods, Cape Cod, A Yankee in Canada, Walking, Au- 
tumnal Tints, Wild Flowers, etc. 

EMERSON. 

Ealph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) stands in a realm of 
his own creating. So entirely unique are his writings, and so 
broad and universal his mind, that he cannot with propriety be 
classed in any one department of literature. Poetry was the 
very essence of his nature, yet he cared but little for the poet's 
art. In his prose essays he became the teacher of teachers. 
He kindled thought, and that by a stroke as rapid as a flash of 
lightning. His phrases — spasmodic, irregular, sometimes in- 
harmonious — were results of a process of thought unexpressed 
to the reader, but as natural to the philosophic mind as elabo- 
rated thoughts to a less gifted writer, hence the aphorisms, the 
epigrammatic style of philosophers. They coin the precious 
thought and it becomes common currency. 

Emerson was born in Boston and graduated at Harvard. 
The most of his life was spent at Concord, Mass. He started in 
hfe as a Unitarian minister, but left the pulpit in 1832. After 
traveUing in Europe he entered the lecturing field. His first 



468 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



orations were Man Thinking and Literary Ethics. His first 
essay, Nature^ made thoughtful men and women think more 
profoundly. His published works are several volumes of lec- 
tures and poems, Eepresentative Men^ English 2\aits, The Con- 
duct of Life^ Society and Solitude, Letters, Socicd Aiins. ^'■Parnas- 
sus''^ was a selection of poems compiled from many years' 
reading. 

It is impossible to estimate the value to his generation 
of Emerson's life and_ teachings. He was as careless of his 
own fame as Shakespeare was of his. Yet it is not difficult to 
foresee that to coming generanons his wisdom will be treasured 
as that of the sage, the seer, and the poet. As Ben Jonson 
sang of Shakespeare : 

" He ^aa not for an (one) age, but for all time." 

Our literature, as it stands, is an inheritance without blemish 
or stain. 'No poet has left an impure thought, no immorality 
of conduct has been sanctioned by an American novelist. 
Nothing lives but that which will ennoble and refine. 

Illustrations of the Literature of the Age of 
Emerson, 

LONGFELLOW. 

Children. 

What the leaves are to the forest, 

With the light and air for food, 
Ere their sweet and tender juices 

Have been hardened into wood, — 

That to the world are children; 

Through them it feels the glow 
Of a brighter and sunnier climate 

That reaches the trunk below. 

Come to me, O ye children! 

And whisper in my ear 
What the birds and the winds are singing 

In your sunny atmosphere. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 469 



Ye are better tlian all the ballads 
That ever \vere sung or said, 

For ye are living poems, 
And all the rest are dead.* 

The Children's Hour. 

Between the dark and the daylight, 
When the night is beginning to lower, 

Comes a pause in the day's occupation, 
That is known as the Children's Hour. 

I hear in the chamber above me 

The patter of little feet. 
The sound of a door that is opened, 

And voices soft and sweet. 

From my study I see in the lamplight, 
Descending the broad hall-stair, 

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, 
And Edith with golden hair. 

A whisper, and then a silence; 

Yet I know by their merry eyes 
They are plotting and planning together 

To take me by surprise. 

A sudden rush from the stairway, 
A sudden raid from the hall ! 

By three doors left unguarded 
They enter my castle wall ! 

They climb up into my turret, 

O'er the arms and back of my chair; 

If I try to escape, they surround me ; 
They seem to be everywhere. 

They almost devour me with kisses. 
Their arms about me entwine. 

Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen 
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine ! 

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, 
Because you have scaled the wall. 



* The poem consists of nine stanzas. 

40 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Such an old mustache as I am, 
Is not a match for you all! 

I have you fast in my fortress, 
And will not let you depart, 

But put you down into the dungeon. 
In the round-tower of xay heart. 

And there will I keep you forever, 

Yes, forever and a day, 
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin 

And moulder in dust away! 

The Builders. 

All are architects of Fate, 
Working in these walls of Time; 

Some with massive deeds and great, 
Some with ornament of rhyme. 

Nothing useless is, or low ; 

Each thing in its place is best; 
And what seems but idle show 

Strengthens and supports the rest. 

For the structure that we raise 
Time is with materials filled; 

Our to-days and yesterdays 

Are the blocks with which we build. 

Truly shape and fashion these. 
Leave no yawning gaps between; 
• Think not, because no man sees. 
Such things will remain unseen. 

In the elder days of Art 

Builders wrought with greatest care 
Each minute and unseen part. 

For the gods see everywhere. 

Let us do our work as well, 
Both the unseen and the seen; 

Make the house where gods may dwell 
Beautiful, entire, and clean. 

Else our lives are incomplete, 
Standing in these walls of Time — 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



Broken stairways, where the feet 
Stumble as thej seek to climb. 

Build to-day, then, strong and sure. 
With a firm and ample base ; 

And ascending and secure 

Shall to-morrow find its place. 

Thus alone can we attain 

To those turrets, where the eye 

Sees the world as one vast plain, 
And one boundless reach of sky. 

The Eainy Day. 

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; 

It rains, and the wind is never weary. 

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall. 
But at every gust the dead leaves fall, 

And the day is dark and dreary. 

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; 

It rains, and the wind is never weary. 

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, 
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, 

And the days are dark and dreary. 

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining; 
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining. 

Thy fate is the common fate of all: 

Into each life some rain must fall; 
Some days must be dark and dreary. 

The Castle by the Sea. 

(Translated from the German of Uhland.) 

" Hast thou seen that lordly castle, 
That Castle by the Sea? 
Golden and red above it 
The clouds float gorgeously. 

" And fain it would stoop downward 
To the mirrored wave below ; 
And fain it would soar upward 
In the evening's crimson glow. 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



" Well have I seen that castle, 
That castle by the sea, 
And the moon above it standing, 
And the mist rise solemnly. 

"The winds and the waves of ocean, 
Had they a merry chime? 
Didst thou hear from those lofty chambers 
The harp and the minstrel's rhyme? 

"The winds and the waves of ocean 
They rested quietly. 
But I heard on the gale a sound of wail, 
And tears came to mine eye. 

"And saw'st thou on the turrets 
The king and his royal bride? 
And the wave of their crimson mantles? 
And the golden crown of pride? 

" Led they not forth in rapture 
A beauteous maiden there? 
Kesplendent as the morning sun, 
Beaming with golden hair? 

"Well saw I the ancient parents. 
Without the crown of pride; 
They were moving slow, in weeds of woe, 
No maiden was by their side!" 

From The Two Locks of Hair. 

[Translated from the German.] 

Two locks — and they are wondrous fair — 

Left me that vision mild ; 
The brown is from the mother's hair. 

The blonde is from the child. 

And when I see that lock of gold, 

Pale grows the evening-red; 
And when the dark lock I behold, 

I wish that I were dead. 

The Arrow and the Song. 

I shot an arrow into the air. 

It fell to earth, I knew not where ; 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



For, so swiftly it flew, the sight 
Could not follow it in its flight. 

I breathed a song into the air, 
It fell to earth, I knew not where ; 
For who has sight so keen and strong 
That it can follow the flight of song. 

Long, long afterward, in an oak 
I found the arrow, still unbroke ; 
And the song, from beginning to end, 
I found again in the heart of a friend. 

Sandalphon. 

Have you read in the Talmud of old, 
In the Legends the Kabbins have told. 

Of the limitless realms of the air, — 
Have you read it, — the marvellous story 
Of Sandalphon, the angel of Glory, 

Sandalphon, the angel of Prayer? 

How erect, at the outermost gates 
Of the City Celestial, he waits, 

With his feet on the ladder of light, 
That, crowded with angels unnumbered, 
By Jacob was seen as he slumbered 

Alone in the desert at night? 

The Angels of Wind and of Fire 
Chant only one hymn, and expire 

With the song's irresistible stress; 
Expire in their rapture and wonder. 
As harp strings are broken asunder 

By music they throb to express. 

But serene in the rapturous throng, 
Unmoved by the rush of the song. 

With eyes unimpassioned and slow. 
Among the dead angels, the deathless 
Sandalphon stands listening breathless 

To sounds that ascend from below ; — 

From the spirits on earth that adore, 
From the souls that entreat and implore, 

In the fervor and passion of prayer; 
40* 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



From the hearts that are broken with losses, 
And weary with dragging the crosses 
Too heavy for mortals to bear. 

And he gathers the prayers as he stands, 
And they change into flowers in his hands, 

Into garlands of purple and red; 
And beneath the great arch of the portal. 
Through the streets of the City Immortal, 

Is wafted the fragrance they shed. 

It is but a legend, I know, — 

A fable, a phantom, a show, • 

Of the ancient Eabbinical lore; 
Yet the old mediaeval tradition, 
The beautiful, strange superstition, 

But haunts me and holds me the more. 

When I look from my window at night. 
And the welkin above is all white. 

All throbbing and panting with stars ; 
Among them majestic is standing 
Sandalphon, the angel, expanding 

His pinions in nebulous bars. 

And the legend, I feel, is a part 

Of the hunger and thirst of the heart, 

The frenzy and fire of the brain. 
That grasps at the fruitage forbidden, 
The golden pomegranates of Eden, 

To quiet its fever and pain. 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 

From Green Eiver. 

When breezes are soft and skies are fair, 
I steal an hour from study and care, • 
And hie me away to the woodland scene, 
Where wanders the stream with waters of green, 
As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink 
Had given their stain to the wave they drink ; 
And they whose meadows it murmurs through. 
Have named the stream from its own fair hue. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 475 



Oh, loveliest there the spring days come, 
With blossoms, and birds, and wild bees' hum ; 
The flowers of summer are fairest there. 
And freshest the breath of the summer air ; 
And sweetest the golden autumn day 
In silence and sunshine glides away. . . 
And thy own wild music gushing out 
With mellow murmur or fairy shout, 
From dawn to the blush of another day, 
Like traveller singing along his way. 

That fairy music I never hear. 
Nor gaze on those waters so green and clear, 
And mark them winding away from sight. 
Darkened with shade or flashing with light. 
While o'er them the vine to its thicket clings. 
And the zephyr stoops to freshen his wings. 
But I wish that fate had left me free 
To wander these quiet haunts with thee. 
Till the eating cares of earth should depart, 
And the peace of the scene pass into my heart ; 
And I envy thy stream, as it glides along, 
Through its beautiful banks in a trance of song. 

The Death of the Flowers. 

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year. 

Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. 

Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead : 

They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. 

The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, 

And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. 

Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and 
stood 

In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? 
Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers 
Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. 
The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain 
Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. 

The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, 

And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; 



476 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



But on the hill the golden rod, and the aster in the wood, 
And the yellow sunflower by the brook in autumn beauty stood, 
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on 
men, 

And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade, and 
glen. 

And now, when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come, 
To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home ; 
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are 
still. 

And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill. 

The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore. 

And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. 

And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, 
The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side : 
In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf. 
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief : 
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours. 
So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. 



From The Battle-Field. 

Soon rested those who fought; but thou 
Who minglest in the harder strife 

For truths which men receive not now. 
Thy warfare only ends with life. 

A friendless warfare! lingering long 
Through weary day and weary year ; 

A wild and many- weapon' d throng 

Hang on thy front, and flank, and rear. 

Yet nerve thy spirit to the proof. 
And blench not at thy chosen lot ; 

The timid good may stand aloof. 

The sage may frown — yet faint thou not, 

Nor heed the shaft too surely cast. 
The foul and hissing bolt of scorn; 

For with thy side shall dwell, at last. 
The victory of endurance born. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 4:77 



Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again ; 

The eternal years of God are hers; 
But error, wounded, writhes in pain, 

And dies among his worshippers. 

Waiting by the Gate. 

Beside a massive gateway built up in years gone by, 
Upon whose top the clouds in eternal shadow lie. 
While streams the evening sunshine on quiet wood and lea, 
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me. 

The tree-tops faintly rustle beneath the breeze's flight, 
A soft and soothing sound, yet it whispers of the night ; 
I hear the wood-thrush piping one mellow descant more. 
And scent the flowers that blow when the heat of day is o'er. 

Behold the portals open, and o'er the threshold, now, 
There steps a weary one with a pale and furrowed brow ; 
His count of years is full, his allotted task is wrought ; 
He passes to his rest from a place that needs him not. 

In sadness then I ponder how quickly fleets the hour 
Of human strength and action, man's courage and his power. 
I muse while still the wood-thrush sings down the golden day, 
And as I look and listen the sadness wears away. 

Again the hinges turn, and a youth, departing, throws 
A look of longing backward, and sorrowfully goes ; 
A blooming maid, unbinding the roses from her hair, 
Moves mournfully away from amidst the young and fair. 

Oh, glory of our race that so suddenly decays ! 
Oh, crimson flush of morning that darkens as we gaze ! 
Oh, breath of summer blossoms that on the restless air 
Scatters a moment's sweetness and flies we know not where ! 

I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn ; 
But still the sun shines round me : the evening bird sings on. 
And I again am soothed, and^ beside the ancient gate. 
In the soft evening sunlight, I calmly stand and wait. 

Once more the gates are opened ; an infant group go out. 
The sweet smile quenched forever, and stilled the sprightly shout. 
Oh, frail, frail tree of Life, that upon the greensward strows 
Its fair young buds unopened, with every wind that blows ! 



478 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



So come from every region, so enter, side by side, 
The strong and faint of spirit, the meek and men of pride. 
Steps of earth's great and mighty, between those pillars gray, 
And prints of little feet, mark the dust along the way. 

And some approach the threshold whose looks are blank with fear, 
And some whose temples brighten with joy in drawing near, 
As if they saw dear faces, and caught the gracious eye 
Of Him, the Sinless Teacher, w^ho came for us to die. 

I mark the joy, the terror ; yet these, within my heart, 
Can neither wake the dread nor the longing to depart; 
And, in the sunshine streaming on quiet wood and lea, 
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me. 

J. G. WHITTIER. 

From The Crisis. 

[Written on learning the terms of the treaty with Mexico.] 

. . . O Yale of Rio Bravo ! let thy simple children weep, 
Close watch above their holy fire let maids of - Pecos keep ; 
Let Taos send her cry across Sierra Madre's pines. 
And Algodones toll her bells amidst her corn and vines. 
For lo ! the pale land-seekers come, with eager eyes of gain, 
Wide scattering, like the bison herds on broad Salada's plain. 

Forever ours ! for good or ill, on us the burden lies, 

God's balance, w^atched by angels, is hung across the skies ; 

Shall Justice, Truth, and Freedom turn the poised and trembling scale 

Or shall the Evil triumph, and robber Wrong prevail ? 

Shall the broad land o'er which our flag in starry splendor waves, 

Forego through us its freedom, and bear the tread of slaves? 

The day is breaking in the East of which the prophets told. 
And brightens up the sky of time, the Christian Age of Gold ; 
Old Might to Right is yielding, battle-blade to clerkly pen, 
Earth's monarchs are her peoples, and her serfs stand up as men. 
The isles rejoice together, in a day are nations born, 
And the slave walks free in Tunis, and by Stamboul's Golden Horn. 

Is this, O countrymen of mine ! a day for us to sow 

The soil of new-gained empire with slavery's seeds of woe ? 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSOX. 479 



Great Heaven ! Is this our mission ? End in this the prayers and tears, 
The toil, the strife, the watchings of our younger, better years ? 
Still as the Old World rolls in light, shall ours in shadow turn, 
A beamless chaos, cursed of God, through outer darkness borne ? 
Where the far nations looked for light, a blackness in the air, — 
Where for words of hope they listened, the long wail of despair. 

The crisis presses on us ; face to face with us it stands. 

With solemn lips of question, like the Sphinx in Egypt's sands ; 

This day we fashion destiny, our web of fate we spin, 

This day, for all hereafter, choose we holiness or sin. 



From the Sojtg of the Free. 

If we have whispered truth, 

Whisper no longer; 
Speak as the tempest does, 

Sterner and stronger. 
God and our charter's right, 

Freedom forever! 
Truce Avith oppression. 

Never ! O, never ! 

From Snow-Bound. 

So all night long the storm raved on: — 

And, when the second morning shone, 

We looked upon a world unknown. 

On nothing we could call our own. 

Around the glistening wonder bent 

The blue walls of the firmament. 

No cloud above, no earth below, — 

A universe of sky and snow ! 

The old familiar sights of ours 

Took marvellous shapes ; strange domes and towers 

Eose up where sty or corn-crib stood, 

Or garden wall, or belt of wood ; 

A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed, 

A fenceless drift what once was road ; 

The bridle-post an old man sat 

With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat; 

The well-curb had a Chinese roof ; 

And even the long sweep, high aloof. 



480 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



In its slant splendor, seemed to tell 

Of Pisa's leaning miracle. 

A prompt, decisive man, no breath 

Our father wasted : " Boys, a path !" 

Well pleased, for when did farmer-boy 

Count such a summons less than joy? 

Our buskins on our feet we drew ; 

With mittened hands, and caps drawn low, 

To guard our necks and ears from snow, 

We cut the solid whiteness through. 

-Sf « -Sf 

We reached the barn with merry din, 
And roused the prisoned brutes within. 
The old horse thrust his long head out, 
And, grave with wonder, gazed about. 
The cock his lusty greeting said, 
And forth his speckled harem led; 
The oxen lashed their tails, and hooked, 
And mild reproach of hunger looked. 
The horned patriarch of the sheep. 
Like Egypt's Amun roused from sleep, 
Shook his sage head with gesture mute. 
And emphasized with stamp of foot. 
****** 
As night drew on, and from the crest 
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, 
The sun, a snow-blown traveller, sank 
From sight beneath the smothering bank. 
We piled, with care, our nightly stack 
Of wood against the chimney-back; 
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick. 
And on its top the stout back-stick; 
The knotty forestick laid apart. 
And filled between with curious art 
The ragged brush ; then, hovering near, 
We watched the first red blaze appear ; 
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam 
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, 
Until the old rude-fashioned room 
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom. 
O Time and Change! — with hair as gray 
As was my sire's that wintei*'s day. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 481 

How strange it seems, with so much gone 
Of life and love, to still live on ! 
Ah, brother ! only I and thou 
Are left of all that circle now, — 
The dear home faces whereupon 
That fitful firelight paled and shone. 
Henceforward, listen as we will, 
The voices of that hearth are still ; 
Look where we may, the wide earth o'er, 
Those lighted faces smile no more. 
We tread the paths their feet have worn. 
We sit beneath their orchard-trees. 
We hear, like them, the hum of bees 
And rustle of the bladed corn; 
We turn the pages that they read, 
Their written words we linger o'er. 
But in the sun they cast no shade. 
No voice is heard, no sign is made. 
No step is on the conscious floor ! 
Yet Love will dream and Faitli will trust 
(Since He who knows our need is just), 
That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. 

•55- -Jfr * it * * 

We sped the time with stories old, 
Wrought puzzles out and riddles told. 
Or stammered from our school-book lore, 
"The chief of Gambia's golden shore." 

■55- -x- * * * -Sf 

Our father rode again his ride 
On Memphremagog's wooded side ; 
Sat down again to moose and samp 
In trapper's hut and Indian camp. 

* * * 4t * -X- 

Our mother, while she turned her wheel 
Or run the new-knit stocking-heel, 
Told how the Indian hordes came down 
At midnight on Cochecho town. 
And how her own great-uncle bore 
His cruel scalp-mark to four-score. 
Kecalling, in her fitting phrase, 
So rich, and picturesque, and free, 
(The common unrhymed poetry 
41 2F 



482 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Of simple life and country ways,) 

The story of her early days. — 

* * * * -x- * 

Our uncle, innocent of books, 

Was rich in lore of fields and brooks. 

Next the dear aunt, whose smile of cheer 

And voice in dreams I see and hear, — 

Who, lonely, homeless, not the less 

Found peace in love's unselfishness, 

And welcome wheresoe'er she went, 

A calm and gracious element. 

Whose presence seemed the sweet income 

And womanly atmosphere of home,-— 

Called up her girlhood memories — 

The huskings and the apple-bees. 

The sleigh-rides and the summer sails, 

Weaving through all the poor details 

And homespun warp of circumstance 

A golden woof-thread of romance. 

^ * * * -x- 

There, too, our elder sister plied 

Her evening task the stand beside; 

A full, rich nature, free to trust. 

Truthful, and almost sternly just. 

Impulsive, earnest, prompt to act 

And make her generous thought a fact, 

Keeping with many a light disguise. 

The secret of self-sacrifice. 

O heart sore tried! thou hast the best 

That Heaven itself could give thee— rest. 

Rest from all bitter thoughts and things! 
How many a poor one's blessing went 
With thee beneath the low green tent. 

Whose curtain never outward swings ! 
•3f « * * * * 

As one who held herself a part 
Of all she saw, and let her heart 

Against the household bosom lean, 
Upon the motley-braided mat 
Our youngest and our dearest sat, 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 483 



Lifting her large, sweet, asking eyes, 

Now bathed within the fadeless green 
And holy peace of Paradise. 

From The Eternal Goodness. 

I know not where his islands lift 

Their fronded palms in air; 
I only know I cannot drift 

Beyond his feve and care. 

The Pressed Gentian. 

The time of gifts has come again, 
And on my northern window-pane, 
Outlined against the day's brief light, 
A Christmas token hangs in sight. 
The wayside travellers, as they pass, 
Mark the gray disk of clouded glass ; 
And the dull blankness seems, perchance, 
Folly to their wise ignorance. 

They cannot from their outlook see 

The perfect grace it hath for me ; 

For there the flower, whose fringes through 

The frosty breath of autumn blew, 

Turns from without its face of bloom 

To the warm tropic of my room, 

As fair as when beside its brook 

The hue of bending skies it took. 

So from the trodden ways of earth 

Seem some sweet souls, who veil their worth. 

And offer to the careless glance 

The clouding gray of circumstance. 

They blossom best where hearth-fires burn, 

To loving eyes alone they turn 

The flowers of inward grace, that hide 

Their beauty from the world outside. 

But deeper meanings come to me. 
My half-immortal flower, from thee ! 
Man judges from a partial view, 
None ever yet his brother knew; 



484 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



The Eternal Eye that sees the whole 
May better read the darkened soul, 
And find, to outward sense denied. 
The flower upon its inmost side. 

In School-Days. 

Still sits the school-house by the road, 

A ragged beggar sunning; 
Around it still the 'sumachs grow. 

And blackberry vines are running. 

Within, the master's desk is seen. 
Deep scarred by raps official ; 

The warping floor, the battered seats, 
The jack-knife's carved initial — 

The charcoal frescoes on its walls, 
Its door's worn still, betraying 

The feet that, creeping slow to school, 
Went storming out to playing! 

Long years ago a winter's sun 

Shone over it at setting; 
Lit up its western window-panes, 

And low eaves' icy fretting. 

It touched the tangled golden curls, 
And brown eyes full of grieving. 

Of one who still her steps delayed 
When all the school were leaving. 

For near her stood the little boy 

Her childish favor singled, 
His cap pulled low upon a face 

Where pride and shame were mingled. 

Pushing with restless feet the snow 
To right and left he lingered, 

As restlessly her tiny hands 

The blue-checked apron fingered. 

He saw her lift her eyes; he felt 
The soft hand's light caressing, 

And heard the trembling of her voice. 
As if a fault confessing. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



"I'm sorry that I spelt the word; 

I hate to go above you, 
Because" — the brown eyes lower fell — 

"Because, you see, I love you!" 

Still memory to a gray-haired man 
That sweet child-face is showing ; 

Dear girl! the grasses on her grave 
Have forty years been growing ! 

He lives to learn, in life's hard school, 
How few who pass above him 

Lament their triumph and his loss 
Like her — because they love him. 

My Triumph. 

The autumn-time has come ; 
On woods that dream of bloom, 
And over purpling vines 
The low sun fainter shines. 

The aster-flower is failing, 
The hazel's gold is paling; 
Yet over head more near 
The eternal stars appear! 

And present gratitude 
Insures the future's good. 
And for the things I see 
I trust the things to be. 

•K- * -K- 

IjQi the thick curtain fall; 
I better know than all 
How little I have gained, 
How vast the unattained. 
^ ^ ^ ^ 
Others shall sing the song ; 
Others shall right the wrong, — 
Finish what I begin, 
And all I fail of win. 

What matter, I or they? 
Mine or another's day, 

41* 



486 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN- LITERATURE, 



So the right word be said, 
And all life sweeter made? 

Hail to the coming singers! 
Hail to the brave light-bringers ! 
Forward I reach and share 
All that they sing and dare. 

The airs of heaven blow o'er me; 
A glory shines before me 
Of what mankind shall be, — 
Pure, generous, brave and free. 

■3f * * -Jfr * 

Ring bells in unreared steeples, 
The joy of unborn peoples ! 
Sound trumpets far off blown, 
Your triumph is my own. 

Longfellow's Last Birthday. 

With a glory of winter sunshine 

Over his locks of gray. 
In the old historic mansion 

He sat on his last birthday, 

With his books and his pleasant pictures 
And his household and his kin. 

While a sound as of myriads singing 
From far and near stole in. 

It came from his own fair city, 
From the prairie's boundless plain, 

From the Golden Gate of sunset, 
And the cedarn woods of Maine. 

And his heart grew warm within him 
And his moistening eyes grew dim. 

For he knew that his country's children 
Were singing the songs of him ; 

The lays of his life's glad morning. 
The psalms of his evening time. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 487 



Whose echoes shall float forever 
On the winds of every clime. 

All their beautiful consolations, 
Sent forth like birds of cheer, 

Came flocking back to his windows, 
And sang in the Poet's ear. 

Grateful, but solemn and tender, 

The music rose and fell. 
With a joy akin to sadness 

And a greeting like farewell. 

With a sense of awe he listened 
To the voices sweet and young ; • 

The last of earth and the first of heaven 
Seemed in the songs they sung. 

And waiting a little longer 

For the wonderful change to come, 

He heard the Summoning Angel 
Who calls God's children home ! 

And to him, in a holier welcome. 
Was the mystical meaning given 

Of the words of the blessed Master : 
" Of such is the kingdom of Heaven ! " 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 

From The Present Crisis. 

Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, 
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side. 
Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight. 
Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right. 
And the choice goes by forever twixt that darkness and that light. 

Count me o'er earth's chosen heroes, — they were souls that stood alone, 

While the men they agonized for hurled the contumelious stone. 

Stood serene, and down the future saw the golden beam incline 

To the side of perfect justice, mastered by their faith divine. 

By one man's plain truth to manhood and to God's supreme design. 



488 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



From The Biglow Papers. 
A Letter 

From Mr. Ezekiel Biglow of Jaalam to the Hon. Joseph T. Buckingham, 
Editor of the Boston Courier, inclosing a poem of his son, Mr. Hosea 
Biglow. 

Jaylem, June, 1846. 

Mister Eddyter : Our Hosea wuz down to Boston last week, and 
he see a cruetin sarjunt a struttin round as popler as a hen with 1 
chicking, with 2 fellers a drummin and fifin arter him like all nater. 
the sarjunt he thout Hosea hed n't gut his i teeth cut cos he looked a 
kindo's though he'd jist come down, so he cal'lated to hook him in, but 
Hosy wood n't take none o' his sarse for all he hed much as 20 Rooster's 
tales stuck onto his hat and eenamost enuf brass a bobbin up and down 
on his shoulders and figured onto his coat and trousis, let alone wut 
nater hed sot in his featers, to make a 6 pounder out on. 

wal, Hosea he com home considerabal riled, and arter I 'd gone to 
bed I heern Him a thrashin round like a short-tailed Bull in fli-time. 
The old Woman ses she to me ses she, Zekle, ses she, our Hosee 'sgut the 
chollery or suthin anuther ses she, don't you Bee skeered, ses I, he 's oney 
amakin pottery ses i, he 's oilers on hand at that ere busynes like Da & 
martin, and shure enuf, cum mornin, Hosy he cum down stares full chizzle, 
hare on eend and cote tales flyin, and sot rite of to go reed his varses to 
Parson Wilbur, bein he haint aney grat a shows o' book lamin himself, 
bimeby he cum back and sed the parson wuz drefile tickled with 'em as 
i hoop you will Be, and said they wuz True grit. 

Ez fer war, I call it murder, — 

There you have it plain an' flat; 
I don't want to go no furder 

Than my Testyment fer that ; 
God hez sed so plump and fairly. 

It's ez long ez it is broad. 
An' you've gut to get up airly > 

Ef you want to take in God. 

'Taint your eppyletts an' feathers 
Make the thing a grain more right ; 

'Taint a foUerin' your bell-wethers 
Will excuse ye in his sight; 

Ef you take a sword an' dror it, 
An' go stick a feller thru, 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 489 



Guv'ment aint to answer fer it, 
God '11 send the bill to you. 

Wut's the use o' meetin'-goin' 

Every Sabbath, wet or dry, 
Ef it's right to go amowin' 

Feller-men like oats an' rye? 
I dunno but wut it 's pooty 

Trainin' round in bobtail coats, — 
But it's curus Christian dooty 

This ere cuttin' folks's throats. 

From A Fable foe, Critics. 

There 's Emerson first, whose rich words every one 

Are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on. 

TV -K- * * * 

There are persons mole-blind to the soul's make and style 

Who insist on a likeness 'wixt him and Carlyle; — 

To compare him with Plato would be vastly fairer. 

Carlyle 's the more burly, but E. is the rarer. 

% ^ ^ % ^ * 

C. shows you how every-day matters unite 

With the dim transdiurnal recesses of night, — 

While E., in a plain preternatural way, 

Makes mysteries matters of mere every day. 

* -x- * -x- -Sf * 

To the men he thinks worthy he frankly accords 

The design of a white marble statue in words. 

■X- -X- * ^ -JE- -X- 

There is Bryant, as quiet, as cool, and as dignified 

As a smooth, silent iceberg, that never is ignified 

Save, when by reflection, 't is kindled o' nights 

With a semblance of flame by the chill Northern Lights. 

He may rank (Griswold says so) first bard of your nation. 

There's no doubt that he stands in supreme ice-olation 

Your topmost Parnassus he may set his heel on. 

But no warm applauses come peal following peal on. , - 

He 's too smooth and too polished to hang any zeal on. 

Unqualified merits, I'll grant, if you choose, he has 'em, 

But he lacks the one merit of kindling enthusiasm. 

If he stir you at all, it's just, on my soul, 

Like being stirred up with the very North Pole. 



490 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



But, my dear little bardlings, don't prick up vour ears, 
Nor suppose I would rank you and Bryant as peers ; 
If I call him an iceberg, I don't mean to say 
There 's nothing in that which is grand in its way. 
He is almost the one of your poets that knows 
How much grace, strength, and dignity lie in repose. 
If he sometimes falls short, he is too wise to mar 
His thought's modest fulness by going too far ; 
'T would be well if your authors would all make a trial 
Of what virtue there is in severe self-denial, 
And measure their writings by Hesiod's staff. 
Which teaches that all has less value than half. 

There 's Whittier, whose swelling and vehement heart 
Strains the strait-breasted drab of the Quaker apart, 
And reveals the live man, still supreme and erect, 
Underneath the bemummying wrappers of sect. 

•5f -J?- * * -X- * 

Let his mind once get head in its favorite direction, 
And the torrent of verse bursts the dam of reflection. 
While borne with the rush of the metre along, 
The poet may chance to go right or go wrong. 
Content with the Avhirl and delirium of song. 

■X- -JJ- -Sf * -x- 

Our Quaker leads off metaphysical fights, — 
For reform and whatever they call human rights; 
Both singing and striking in front of the war. 
And hitting his foes with the mallet of Thor. 

* ^ * * 
All honor and praise to the right-hearted bard 

Who was true to the voice when such service was hard ; 
Who himself was so free, he dared sing for the slave 
When to look but a protest in silence was brave. 

There is Hawthorne, with genius so shrinking and rare 
That you hardly at first see the strength that is there. 

* * * -Jf -H- 

There comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Eudge, 
Three-fifths of him genius and two-fifths sheer fudge; 
Who talks like a book of iambs and pentameters 
In a way to make people of common sense damn metres ; 
AVho has written some things quite the best of their kind, 
But the heai't somehow seems all squeezed out by the mind. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 491 



Who — but, heyday ! Messieurs Mathews and Poe, 

You must n't fling mud-balls at Longfellow so. 

Does it make a man worse that his character 's such 

As to make his friends love him (as you think) too much? 

Why there is not a bard at this moment alive 

More willing than he that his fellows should thrive ; 

While you are abusing him thus, even now 

He would help either one of you out of a slough. 

•3f * * * 4f ^ 

Deduct all you can, that still keeps you at bay, 

Why he '11 live till men weary of Collins and Gray. 

What ! Irving ! thrice welcome, warm heart and fine brain ! 

You bring back the happiest spirit from Spain, 

And the gravest sweet humor that ever was there 

Since Cervantes met death in his gentle despair. 

Nay, don't be embarrass' d, nor look so beseeching, 

I sha' n't run directly against my own preaching. 

And, having just laugh' d at their Kaphaels and Dantes, 

Go to setting you up beside matchless Cervantes ; 

But allow me to speak what I honestly feel ; — 

To a true poet-heart add the fun of Dick vSteele, 

Throw in all of Addison minus the chill, 

With the whole of that partnership's stock and good- will, 

Mix well, and, while stirring, hum o'er, as a spell, 

The "fine old English gentleman;" — simmer it well ; 

Sweeten just to your own private liking, then strain. 

That only the finest and clearest remain : 

Let it stand out of doors till a soul it receives 

From the warm lazy sun loitering down through green leaves ; 

And you '11 find a choice nature, not wholly deserving 

A name either English or Yankee— just Irving. 

The First Snow-Fall. 

The snow had begun in the gloaming, 

And busily all the night 
Had been heaping field and highway 

With a silence deep and white. 

Every pine, and fir, and hemlock. 

Bore ermine too dear for an earl. 
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree 

Was ridged inch-deep with pearl. 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



From sheds new-roofed with Carrara 
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow; 

The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, 
And still fluttered down the snow. 

I stood and watched by the window 

The noiseless work of the sky, 
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds, 

Like brown leaves whirling by. 

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn, 

Where a little headstone stood; 
How the flakes were folding it gently, 

As did robins the babes in the wood. 

Up spoke our own little Mabel, 

Saying, "Father, who makes it snow?" 

And I told of the good All-father 
Who cares for us here below. 

Again I looked at the snow-fall, 

And thought of the leaden sky 
That arched o'er our first great sorrow 

When that mound was heaped so high. 

I remembered the gradual patience 
That fell from that cloud like snow, 

Flake by flake, healing and hiding 
The scar of our deep-plunged woe. 

And again to the child I whispered, 

" The snow tha,t husheth all, 
Darling, the merciful Father 

Alone can make to fall!" 

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; 

And she, kissing back, could not know 
That my kiss was given to her sister 

Folded close under deepening snow. 

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 

The Boys. 

Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys ? 
If there has, take him out, without making a noise. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF E3IERS0N. 493 



Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite! 
Old Time is a liar ! We 're twenty to-night ! 

We 're twenty ! We 're twenty ! Who says we are more ? » 
He 's tipsy, — young jackanapes ! — show him the door ! 
" Gray temples at twenty ? " — Yes ! white, if we please ; 
Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze ! 

Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake ! 
Look close, — you will see not a sign of a flake ! 
We want some new garlands for those we have shed — 
And these are white roses in place of the red. 

"We 've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, 
Of talking (in public) as if we were old : — 
That boy we call " Doctor," and this we call " Judge ; " 
It 's a neat little fiction, — of course, it 's all fudge. 

That fellow 's the " Speaker," — the one on the right ; 

" Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night ? 

That 's our " Member of Congress," we say when we chaff ; 

There 's the " Eeverend " What 's his name ?— don't make me laugh. 

That boy with the grave mathematical look 
Made believe he had written a wonderful book. 
And the Royal Society thought it was true! 
So they chose him right in, — a good joke it was too ! 

There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, 

That could harness a team with a logical chain ; 

W^hen he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire. 

We called him "The Justice," but now he's "The Squire." 

And there 's a nice youngster of excellent pith — 
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith ; 
But he shouted a song for the brave and the free, — 
Just read on his medal, " My country," " of thee ! " 

You hear that boy laughing ?— You think he 's all fun ; 
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done ; 
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call. 
And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all ! 

Yes, we 're boys, — always playing with tongue or with pen ; 
And I sometimes have asked. Shall we ever be men ? 
Shall we always be youthful, and laughing and gay. 
Till the last dear companion drops smiling away ? 
42 ' 



494 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 

Then here 's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray ! 
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ! 
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, 
* Dear Father, take care of thy children, The Boys ! 

BAYARD TAYLOR. 

AuTTJMNAi, Dreams. 

When the maple turns to crimson. 
And the sassafras to gold ; 

When the gentian's in the meadow 
And the aster in the wold ; 

When the moon is lapped in vapor 
And the night is frosty cold ; 

When the chestnut-burs are opened, 
And the acorns drop like hail, 

And the drowsy air is startled 

With the thumping of the flail, — 

With the drumming of the partridge 
And the whistle of the quail ; 

Through the rustling woods I wander 
Through the jewels of the year, 

From the yellow uplands calling, 
Seeking her that still is dear ; 

She is near me in the autumn. 
She the beautiful is near. 

Through the smoke of burning summer, 
When the weary winds are still, 

I can see her in the valley, 
I can hear her on the hill — 

In the splendor of the woodlands, 
In the whisper of the rill. 

For the shores of Earth and Heaven 
Meet and mingle in the blue : 

She can wander do^ra the glory 
To the places that she knew. 

Where the happy lovers wandered 
In the days when life was true. 

So I think when days are sweetest, 
And the w^orld is wholly fair, 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



495 



She may sometime steal upon me 
Through the dimness of the air, 

With the cross upon her bosom 
And the amaranth in her hair. 

Once to meet her, ah ! to meet her 
And to hold her gently fast 

Till I blessed her, till she blessed me — 
That were happiness at last ; 

That were bliss beyond our meetings 
In the autumns of the Past. 

In Winter. 

The valley stream is frozen. 
The hills are cold and bare. 

And the wild white bees of winter 
Swarm in the darkened air. 

I look on the naked forest: 
Was it ever green in June? 

Did it burn with gold and crimson 
In the dim autumnal noon? 

I look on the barren meadow: 
Was it ever heaped with hay? 

Did it hide the grassy cottage 

Where the skylark's children lay? 

I look on the desolate garden : 
Is it true the rose was there? 

And the woodbine's musky blossoms, 
And the hyacinth's purple hair? 

I look in my heart, and marvel 
If Love were ever its own, — 

If the spring of promise brightened. 
And the summer of passion shone. 

Is the stem of bliss but withered. 
And the root survives the blast? 
J Are the seeds of the Future sleeping 
Under the leaves of the Past? 



496 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE, 



The Eetuen of Spring. 

Have I passed through Death's unconscious birth, 

In a dream the midnight bare? 
I look on another and fairer Earth: 

I breathe a wondrous air! 

A spirit of beauty walks the hills, 

A spirit of love the plain ; 
The shadows are bright, and the sunshine fills 

The air with a diamond rain ! 

Before my vision the glories swim, 

To the dance of a tune unheard ; 
Is an angel singing where woods are dim, 

Or is it an amorous bird? 

Is it a spike of azure flowers, 

Deep in the meadows seen, 
Or is it the peacock's neck, that towers 

Out of the spangled green? 

Is a white dove glancing across the blue, 

Or an opal taking wing? 
For my soul is dazzled through and through. 

With the splendor of the spring. 

Is it she that shines as never before. 

The tremulous hills above, — 
Or the heart within me, awake once more 

To the dawning light of love? 

T. B. READ. 

The Closing Scene. 

Within this sober realm of leafless trees. 
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air. 

Like some tann'd reaper in his hour of ease. 
When all the fields are lying brown and bare. 

The gray barns, looking from their hazy hills 
O'er the dim waters widening in the vales. 

Sent down the air a greeting to the mills,, 
On the dull thunder of alternate flails. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



All sights were mellow'd, and all sounds subdued, 
The hills seem'd farther, and the streams sang low ; 

As in a dream, the distant woodman hew 'd 
His winter log with many a muffled blow. 

The embattled forests, erewliile arm'd in gold, 
Their banners bright with every martial hue, 

Now stood, like some sad beaten host of old, 
Withdrawn afar in Time's remotest blue. 

On slumberous wings the vulture tried his flight ; 

The dove scarce heard his sighing mate's complaint ; 
And, like a star slow drowning in the light. 

The village church-vane seem'd to pale and faint. 

The sentinel cock, upon the hill-side crew, — 
Crew thrice, and all was stiller than before, — 

Silent till some replying wanderer blew 

His alien horn, and then was heard no more. 

Where erst the jay within the elm's tall crest 
Made garrulous trouble round the unfledged young ; 

And where the oriole hung her swaying nest 
By every light wind like a censer swung ; 

Where sang the noisy masons of the eves, 

The busy swallows circling ever near, 
Foreboding, as the rustic mind believes, 

An early harvest and a plenteous year ; 

Where every bird which charm'd the vernal feast 
Shook the sweet slumber from its wings at morn, 

To warn the reapers of the rosy east, 
All now was songless, empty, and forlorn. 

Alone from out the stubble piped the quail, 

And croak' d the crow through all the dreary gloom ; 

Alone the pheasant, drumming in the vale. 
Made echo to the distant cottage-loom. 

There was no bud, no bloom upon the bowers; 

The spiders wove their thin shrouds night by night ; 
The thistle-down, the only ghost of flowers, 
Sail'd slowly by — pass'd noiseless out of sight. 
42* 2G 



498 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Amid all this, — in this most cheerless air, 
And where the woodbine sheds upon the porch 

Its crimson leaves, as if the year stood there, 
Firing the floor with his inverted torch, 

Amid all this, the centre of the scene, 

The white-hair' d matron, with monotonous tread, 

Plied her swift wheel, and with her joyless mien 
Sat like a Fate, and watch'd the flying thread. 

•3«- * -X- -Sf -K- * 

Long, but not loud, the droning wheel went on, 
Like the low murmurs of a hive at noon ; 

Long, but not loud, the memory of the gone 

Breathed through her lips a sad and tremulous tune. 

At last the thread was snapp'd, her head was bow'd ; 

Life drooped the distaflf through his hands serene, 
And loving neighbors smoothed her careful shroud. 

While Death and Winter closed the autumn scene. 

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. 

It Never Comes Again. 

There are gains for all our losses. 

There are balms for all our pain. 
But when youth, the dream, departs. 
It takes something from our hearts. 
And it never comes again. 

We are stronger, and are better. 
Under manhood's sterner reign; 

Still we feel that something sweet 

Followed youth, with flying feet. 
And will never come again. 

Something beautiful is vanished, 

And we sigh for it in vain; 
We behold it everywhere. 
On the earth and in the air, 

But it never comes again. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 



499 



G-EORGE H. BOKER. 

From The Ivory Carver. 

Silently sat the artist alone 

Carving a Christ from the ivory bone. 

Little by little, with toil and pain 

He won his way through the sightless grain, 

That held and yet hid the thing he sought, 

Till the work stood up a growing thought, 

And all around him, unseen yet felt, 

A mystic presence forever dwelt, 

A formless spirit of subtle flame, 

The light of whose being went and came, 

As the artist paused from work, or bent 

His whole heart to it with firm intent. 

CHRISTOPHER P. CRANOH. 

Thought, 

Thought is deeper than all speech. 
Feeling deeper than all thought; 

Soul to soul can never teach 
What unto itself was taught. 

We are spirits clad in veils; 

Man by man was never seen ; 
All our deep communing fails 

To remove the shadowy screen. 

Heart to heart was never known ; 

Mind with mind did never meet ; 
We are columns left alone 

Of a temple once complete. 
* * * * * 

Only when our souls are fed 

By the fount which gave them birth, 
And by inspiration led. 

Which they never drew from earth, 

We, like parted drops of rain. 
Swelling till they meet and run, 

Shall be all absorbed again. 
Melting, flowing into one. 



500 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



W.W. STORY. 

From The English Language. 

How art thou freely obedient unto the poet or speaker, 
When in a happy hour thought unto speech he translates. 
Caught on the words' sharp angles flush the bright hues of his fancy. 
Grandly the thought rides the words as a good horseman his steed. 

Now clear, pure, hard, bright, and one by one, like to hailstones, 

Short words fall from his lips fast as the first of a shower. 

Now in a two-fold column, Spondee, Iamb, and Trochee, 

Unbroke, firm-set, advance, retreat, trampling along ; 

Now with a sprightlier springiness, bounding in triplicate syllables, 

Dance the elastic Dactylics in musical cadences on ; 

Now, their voluminous coil intertangling like huge anacondas, 

KoU overwhelmingly onward sesquipedalian words. 

JOHN G. SAXE. 

From The Proud Miss MacBride. 

Of all the notable things on earth. 
The queerest one is the pride of birth 

Among our " fierce democracy ! " 
A bridge across a hundred years, 
Without a prop to save it from sneers, 
Not even a couple of rotten peers, 
A thing for laughter, jeers, and sneers 

Is American aristocracy ! 

English and Irish, French and Spanish, 
Germans, Italians, Dutch, and Danish, 
Crossing their veins until they vanish 

In one conglomeration ! 
So subtle a tangle of blood, indeed. 
No Heraldry Harvey will ever succeed 

In finding the circulation. 

Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, 
Your family thread you can't ascend. 
Without good reason to apprehend 
You may find it waxed at the farther end 
By some plebeian vocation ! 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 501 



Or, worse than that, your boasted line 
May end in a loop of stronger twine, 
That plagued some worthy relation. 

HAWTHORNE. 

From The Old Manse. 

If ever my reader should decide to give up civilized life, — cities 
and houses, — let it be in the early autumn. Then Nature will love him 
better than at any other season, and will take him to her bosom with a 
more motherly tenderness. I could scarcely endure the roof of the 
old house above me in those first autumnal days. How early in the sum- 
mer, too, the prophecy of autumn comes ! Earlier in some years than 
in others. Sometimes even in the first weeks of July. There is no 
other feeling like what is caused by this faint, doubtful, yet real percep- 
tion — if it be not rather a foreboding— of the years' decay, so blessedly 
sweet and sad in the same breath. 

I have forgotten whether the song of the cricket be not as early a 
token of autumn's approach as any other — that song which may be 
called an audible stillness ; for though very loud and heard afar, yet 
the mind does not take note of it as a sound, so completely is its indi- 
vidual existence merged among the accompanying characteristics of the 
season. Alas for the pleasant summer time ! In August the grass is 
still verdant on the hills and in the valleys ; the foliage of the trees is 
as dense as ever and as green ; the flowers gleam forth in richer abun- 
dance along the margin of the river and by the stone walls and deep 
among the woods ; the days, too, are as fervid now as they were a month 
ago ; and yet, in every breath of wind and in every beam of sunshine, 
we hear the whispered farewell and behold the parting smile of a dear 
friend. There is a coolness amid all the heat, a mildness in the blazing 
noon. Not a breeze can stir, but it thrills us with the breath of autumn. 
A pensive glory is seen in the far, golden gleams, among the shadows of 
the trees. The flowers — even the brightest of them, and they are the 
most gorgeous of the year — have this gentle sadness wedded to their 
pomp. The brilliant cardinal flower has never seemed gay to me. 

MRS. STOWE. 

From Ukcle Tom's Cabin. 
" What 's Eva going about now ? " said St. Clare ; ''I mean to see." 
And, advancing on tiptoe, he lifted up a curtain that covered the 



502 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



glass-door, and looked in. In a moment, laying his finger on his lips, 
he made a silent gesture to Miss Ophelia to come and look. There sat 
the two children on the floor, with their side faces towards them, Topsy, 
with her usual air of careless drollery and unconcern ; but, opposil^e to 
her, Eva, her whole face fervent with feeling, and tears in her large 
eyes. 

" What does make you so bad, Topsy ? Why won't you try and be 
good ? Don't you love anybody, Topsy ? " 

" Donno nothin' bout love ; I loves candy and sich, that 's all," said 
Topsy. 

" But you love your father and mother ? " 

" Never had none, ye know. I telled you that, Miss Eva." 

" Oh, I know," said Eva, sadly ; " but had you any brother or sister, 
or aunt, or — " 

" No, none on 'em — never had nothing nor nobody." 

" But, Topsy, if you 'd only try and be good, you might — " 

"Couldn't never be nothin' but a nigger, if I war ever so good," said 
Topsy. " If I could be skinned, and come white, I 'd try then." 

" But people can love you, if you are black, Topsy. Miss Ophelia 
would love you, if you were good." 

Topsy gave the short, blunt laugh that was her common mode of ex- 
pressing incredulity. 

" Don't you think so ? " said Eva. 

" No ; she can't bar me, 'cause I 'm a nigger — she'd 's soon have a toad 
touch her! There can't nobody love niggers, and niggers can't do 
nothin ! I don't care," said Topsy, beginning to whistle. 

" Oh, Topsy, poor child, / love you ! " said Eva, with a sudden burst 
of feeling, and laying her little thin, white hand on Topsy's shoulder ; 
" I love you because you have n't had any father, or mother, or friends ; 
because you 've been a poor, abused child ! I love you, and I want you 
to be good. I am very unwell, Topsy, and I think I sha'n't live a great 
while ; and it really grieves me to have you be so naughty. I wish you 
would try to be good for my sake — it 's only a little while I shall be 
with you." 

The round, keen eyes of the black child were overcast with tears — 
large, bright drops rolled heavily down, one by one, and fell on the 
little white hand. Yes, in that moment a ray of real belief, a ray of 
heavenly love had penetrated the darkness of her heathen soul ! She 
laid her head down between her knees, and wept and sobbed — while the 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF E3IERS0N. 503 



beautiful child, bending over her, looked like the picture of some 
bright angel stooping to reclaim a sinner. 

" Poor Topsy ! " said Eva, " don't you know that Jesus loves all alike ? 
He is just as willing to love you as me. He loves you just as I do — 
only more, because he is better. He will help you to be good ; and you 
can go to heaven at last, and be an angel forever, just as much as if 
you were white. Only think of it, Topsy ! you can be one of those 
spirits bright Uncle Tom sings about." 

" O, dear Miss Eva, dear Miss Eva ! " said the child ; " I will try ; I 
never did care notliin' about it before." 

St. Clare, at this instant, dropped the curtain. " It puts me in mind 
of mother," he said to Miss Ophelia. " It is true what she told me ; if 
we want to give sight to the blind, we must be willing to do as Christ 
did— call them to us, and and put our hands on them.'' 

"I've always had a prejudice against negroes," said Miss Ophelia, 
" and it 's a fact, I never could bear to have that child touch me ; but I 
did n't think she knew it." 

" Trust any child to find that out," said St. Clare ; " there 's no keep- 
ing it from them. But I believe that all the trying in the world to 
benefit a child, and all the substantial favors you can do them, will 
never excite one emotion of gratitude while that feeling of repugnance 
remains in the heart ; it 's a queer kind of a fact, but so it is." 

"I don't know how I can help it," said Miss Ophelia; "they are dis- 
agreeable to me — this child in particular — how can I help feeling so ? " 

" Eva does, it seems." 

"Well, she's so loving! After all, though, she's no more than 
Christ-like," said Miss Ophelia ; " I wish I were like her. She might 
teach me a lesson." 

" It would n't be the first time a little child has been used to instruct 
an old disciple, if it were so," said St. Clare. 

H. W. BEEOHER. 

From Progress of Thought m the Church. 

The future is not in danger from the revelations of Science. Science 
is truth ; Truth loves the truth. Changes must come and old things 
must pass away, but no tree sheds its leaf until it has rolled up a bud 
at its axil for the next summer. 

Navigation does not cease when correct charts supersede faulty ones ; 



604 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



nor husbandry, when invention supplies new implements superseding 
old ones ; nor manufacturing, when chemistry improves texture and 
color ; nor governments, when Eeform sweeps away bad ones and exalts 
the better. Keligion is not destroyed because a new philosophy of re- 
ligion takes precedence of the old. Positive faith may stagger while 
old things are passing away. To give a rambling vine a new support, 
men prune back its long and leafless stems ; but the root is vital. Xew 
growths spring with vigor. Our time is one of transition. We are refus- 
ing the theology of Absolute Monarchy — of Divine Despotism — and 
framing a theology consistent with the life and teachings of Jesus 
Christ. 

MRS. JACKSON.—" H. H." 

The Secret of Content. 

The other day, as I was walking on one of the streets oi Newport, 
I saw a little girl standing before the window of a milliner's shop. It 
was a very rainy day. The pavement of the sidewalks on this street is so 
sunken and irregular that in wet weather, unless one walks with very great 
care, he steps continually into small wells of water. Up to her ankles 
in one of these wells stood the little girl, apparently as unconscious as 
if she were high and dry before a fire. It was a very cold day, too. I 
was hurrying along, wrapped in furs, and not quite warm enough even so. 

The child was but thinly clothed. She wore an old plaid shawl 
and a ragged knit hood of scarlet worsted. One little red ear stood out 
unprotected by the hood, and drops of water trickled down over it from 
her hair. She seemed to be pointing with her finger at articles in the 
window, and talking to some one inside. I watched her for several mo- 
ments, and then crossed the street to see Avhat it all meant. 

I stole noiselessly up behind her, and she did not hear me. The 
window was full of artificial flowers, of the cheapest sort, but of very gay 
colors. Here and there a knot of ribbon or a bit of lace had been taste- 
fully added, and the whole effect was remarkably gay and pretty. Tap, 
tap, tap, went the small hand against the window-pane, and with every 
tap the unconscious little creature murmured, in a half- whispering, half- 
singing voice : " I choose that color." " I choose that color." " I choose 
that color." 

I stood motionless. I could not see her face, but there was in her 
whole attitude and tone the heartiest content and delight. I moved a 
little to the right, hoping to see her face without lier seeing me, but the 
slight movement caught her ear, and in a second she had sprung aside 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 505 



and turned toward me. The spell was broken. She was no longer the 
queen of an air-castle decking herself in all the rainbow-hues which 
pleased her eye. She was a poor beggar-child, out in the rain, and a 
little frightened at the approach of a stranger. She did not move away, 
however, but stood eyeing me irresolutely, with that pathetic mixture 
of interrogation and defiance in her face which is so often seen in the 
prematurely-developed faces of poverty-stricken children. 

"Are n't the colors pretty ? " I said. She brightened instantly. " Yes, 
ma'am; I'd like a gown of that blue color." "But you will take 
cold standing in the wet," said I. " Won't you come under my um- 
brella? " She looked doAvn at her Avet dress suddenly, as if it had not 
occurred to her before that it was raining. Then she drew first one little 
foot and then the other out of the muddy puddle in which she had been 
standing, and moving a little closer to the window, said, " I 'm not going 
home just yet, ma'am. I 'd like to stay here a while." 

So I left her. But after I had gone a few blocks the impulse seized 
me to return by a cross street and see if she were still there. Tears 
sprang to my eyes as I first caught sight of the upright little figure, 
standing in the same spot, still pointing with the rhythmic finger to the 
blues and reds and yellows, and half chanting under her breath as 
before : " I choose that color." " I choose that color." " 1 choose that 
color." 

I went quietly on my way without disturbing her again. But I 
said in my heart, " Little messenger, interpreter, teacher, I will remem- 
ber you all my life ! " Why should days be ever dark, life ever be col- 
orless ? There is always sun ; there are always blue and scarlet and 
yellow and purple. We cannot reach them, perhaps, but we can see 
them ; if it is only " through a glass " and " darkly," still we can see 
them. We can "choose " our colors. 

It rains, perhaps, and we are standing in the cold. Never mind. 
If we look earnestly enough at the brightness which is on the other 
side of the glass, we shall forget the wet and not feel the cold. And 
now and then a passer-by who has rolled himself up in furs to keep out 
the cold, but shivers, nevertheless, who has money in his purse to buy 
many colors, if he likes, but, nevertheless, goes grumbling because some 
colors are too dear for him,— such a passer-by, chancing to hear our 
yoice, and see the atmosphere of our content, may learn a wondrous 
secret — that pennilessness is not poverty and ownership is not posses- 
sion ; that to be without is not always to lack, and to reach is not to 
attain ; that sunlight is for all eyes that look up, and color for those 
who " choose." 
43 



506 



HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



EMERSON. 

Each and All. 

Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown, 

Of thee from the hill-top looking down; 

The heifer that lows in the upland farm. 

Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm ; 

The sexton, tolling his bell at noon, 

Deems not that great Napoleon 

Stops his horse, and lists with delight. 

Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height; 

Nor knowest thou what argument 

Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent. 

All are needed by each one ; 

Nothing is fair or good alone. 

I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, 

Singing at dawn on the alder bough; 

I brought him home, in his nest, at even; 

He sings the song, but it pleases not now. 

For I did not bring home the river and sky; — 

He sang to my ear, — they sang to my eye. 

The delicate shells lay on the shore ; 

The bubbles of the latest wave 

Fresh pearls to their enamel gave; 

And the belloAving of the savage sea 

Greeted their safe escape to me. 

I wiped away the weeds and foam, 

I fetched my sea-born treasures home ; 

But the poor, unsightly, noisome things 

Had left their beauty on the shore. 

With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar. 

The lover watched his graceful maid. 

As 'mid the virgin train she strayed. 

Nor knew her beauty's best attire 

Was woven still by the snow-white choir. 

At last she came to his hermitage. 

Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage ; — 

The gay enchantment was undone, 

A gentle wife, but fairy none. 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 507 



Then I said, " I covet truth ; 

Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat ; 

I leave it behind with the games of youth." — 

As I spoke, beneath my feet 

The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, 

Running over the club-moss burrs ; 

I inhaled the violet's breath ; 

Around me stood the oaks and firs ; 

Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground ; 

Over me soared the eternal sky, 

Full of light and of deity: 

Again I saw, again I heard. 

The rolling river, the morning bird ; — 

Beauty through my senses stole ; 

I yielded myself to the perfect whole. 

From Uses of Great Men. 

I count him a great man who inhabits a higher sphere of thought, 
into which other men rise with labor and difficulty. He has but to 
open his eyes to see things in a true light and in large relations ; whilst 
they must make painful corrections, and keep a vigilant eye on many 
sources of error. His service to us is of like sort. It costs a beautiful 
person no exertion to paint her image on our eyes ; yet how splendid 
is that benefit ! It costs no more for a wise soul to convey his quality 
to other men. And every one can do his best thing easiest. 

From Shakespeare, The Poet. 

If it need wit to know wit, according to the proverb, Shakespeare's 
time should be capable of recognizing it. . . . Since the constellation 
of great men who appeared in Greece in the time of Pericles, there 
was never any such society ; yet their genius failed them to find out the 
best head in the universe. Our poet's mask was impenetrable. You 
cannot see the mountain near. It took a century to make it suspected ; 
and not until two centuries had passed after his death, did any criticism 
that we think adequate begin to appear. 



This power of expression, or of transferring the inmost truth of 
things into music and verse, makes him the type of the poet, and has 
added a new problem to metaphysics. 



508 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



The finest poetry was first experience : but the thought has suffered a 
transformation since it was an experience. 

From Behavior. 

Life expresses. . , . Nature tells every secret once. In man she 
tells it all the time. The visible carriage or action of the individual, 
as resulting from his organization and his will combined, we call man- 
ners. What are they but thought entering the hands and feet, con- 
trolling the movements of the body, the speech, and behavior? 

There is always a best way of doing everything, if it be to boil an egg. 
Manners are the happy ways of doing things ; each once a stroke of 
genius or of love, — now repeated and hardened into usage. They form 
at last a rich varnish, with which the routine of life is washed, and its 
details adorned. If they are superficial, so are the dew-drops which 
give such a depth to the morning meadows. 

* * ^- -JC- * * * * -!t 

Manners must be inspired by the good heart. There is no beautifier 
of complexion, or form, or behavior, like the wish to scatter joy and not 
pain around us. 'T is good to give a stranger a meal or a night's lodg- 
ing; 'tis better to be hospitable to his good meaning and thought, and 
give courage to a companion. We must be as courteous to a man as we 
are to a picture which we are willing to give the advantage of a good 
light. Special precepts are not to be thought of; the talent of well- 
- doing contains them all. Every hour will show a duty as paramount 
as that of my whim just now ; and yet I will write it, that there is one 
topic peremptorily forbidden to all well-bred, to all rational mortals, 
namely, their distempers. If you have not slept, or if you have slept, 
or if you have headache, or sciatica, or leprosy., or thunder-stroke, I 
beseech you by all angels to hold your peace, and not pollute the morn- 
ing, to which all the housemates bring serene and pleasant thoughts, by 
corruption and groans. Love the day ; do not leave the sky out of your 
landscape. 

From Kature (Beauty). 

All men are in some degree impressed by the face of the world ; some 
men even to delight. This love of beauty is taste. Others have the 
same love in such excess, that, not content with admiring, they seek to 
embody it in new forms. The creation of beauty is art. 

The world thus exists to the soul to satisfy the desire of beauty. This 
element I call an ultimate end. No reason can be asked or given why 
the soul seeks beauty. Beauty, in its largest and profoundest sense, is 



LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF EMERSON. 609 



one expression for the universe. God is the All-fair. Truth and good- 
ness and beauty are but different faces of tlie same All. But beauty in 
nature is not ultimate. It is the herald of inward and eternal beauty, 
and is not alone a solid and satisfactory good. It must stand as a part, 
and not as yet the last or highest expression of the final cause of nature. 

From Self-Keliance. 

Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept 
the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your 
contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done 
so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age. 

Whoso would be a man must be a Nonconformist. He who would 
gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, 
but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the 
integrity of your own mind. 

What I must do is all that concerns me, not what people think. . . . 
It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion ; it is easy in 
solitude to live after our own ; but the great man is he who in the 
midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of 
solitude. 

Syllabus. 

No period was ever marked with such progress as the last fifty years, 
A nation's literature is its priceless possession. 
Our writers are our benefactors. 

The great poets of America are Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant, Lowell, 
Holmes, Bayard Taylor, etc. 
Longfellow might be termed the people's poet. 

Bryant, one of the earliest of American poets, was the poet of Nature. 

Whittier is eminently the poet of Humanity. 

James Russell Lowell is wit, poet, and critic combined. 

O. W. Holmes is noted as a humorist. 

The poetry of Saxe is characterized by keen wit. 

Bayard Taylor, B. H. Stoddard, T. B. Read, and George H. Boker may 
be classed among a younger set of writers. 
Bayard Taylor was poet, traveller, and novelist ; but eminently a poet. 
Thomas Buchanan Read's poetry gave great promise of excellence. 
George H. Boker is more distinguished for his dramatical poems. 
43* 



510 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Richard Henry Stoddard is poet and critic combined. 

J. G. Holland was naore successful as a novelist than as a poet. 

Poets of Western life and dialect are " Joaquin " Miller, Bret Harte, 
John Hay, W. W. Carleton, Charles G. Leland, etc. 

Among later poets who have equally distinguished themselves in criti- 
cism are J. T. Trowbridge, T. B. Aldrich, and E. C. Stedman. 

Hawthorne was the finest novelist of the country. 

No novel was ever so popular as Mrs. Stowe's Uncle Tout's Cabin. 

A new order of novel was ushered in with Theodore Winthrop's John 
Brent. 

Among later novelists are Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, Edward Eggle- 
ston, Julian Hawthorne, William Dean Howells, Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, 
Henry James, Jr., Hjalmer Hjorth Boyesen, etc. 

The tendency of the times seems to be towards short stories and sketches. 
Among such writers are James T. Fields, Mrs. Jackson, (" H. H. ; ") Eliza- 
beth Stewart Phelps, Frank E. Stockton, etc. 

The humorous writings are distinctively American. 

Among scientific and educational writers are Agassiz, Leidy, Hitchcock, 
Draper, John Fiske, Francis Waylaud, Horace Maun. 

Theology is widely represented. In the universal progress of ideas, 
varying religious opinions are tolerated. 

The great American historians are Bancroft, Prescott, and Motley. 

Bancroft wrote a History of the United States. 

Prescott wrote The History of Ferdinand and Isabella, The Conquest of 
Mexico, The Conquest of Peru, and Tlie Reign of Philip Second. 

Motley wrote The Rise of the Dutch Republic, History of the United 
Netherlands, and The Life of John of Barneveld. 

Other historians are Lossing, Parkman, Palfrey, Shea, Stephens, Greeley, 
the Abbott brothers, etc. 

Biographers are numerous. George Ticknor, James T. Fields, John Fos- 
ter Kirk, James Parton, etc. 

Periodical literature has been well represented in this country. No 
magazine had permanence until the middle of this century. 

Prominent journalists were Horace Greeley, James Gordon Bennett, 
George D. Prentice, etc. 

Encyclopsedists are Dr. Joseph Thomas, Duyckinck brothers, Alli- 
bone, Griswold, etc. 

As essayists and critics, among the first are Lowell, Tuckerman and 
Whipple. 

Among miscellaneous writers, critics, etc., are Edward Everett Hale, 
T. W. Higgiuson, G. W. Curtis, Gail Hamilton. 
Henry D. Thoreau was a hermit philosopher, 

Ealph Waldo Emerson was one who inhabited "a higher sphere of 
thought, into which other men rise with labor and difficulty." 




Abbott, Jacob, 464. 

J. S. C, 464. 

Adams, Abigail, 401, 407. 

John, 401, 407. 

John Couch, 357. 

John Quincy, 424. 

Nehemiah, 463. 

Addison, Joseph, 179, 188, 202. 
iElfric, 20. 

Agassiz, Louis John Rudolph, 460. 

Mrs., 460. • 

Aird, Thomas, 350. 
Akenside, Mark, -221. 
Alcott, Louisa M., 458. 
Alcuin, 20. 
Aldhelin, 19. 
Aldrich, T. B., 455, 456. 
Alexander, Addison, 462. 
Alford, Henry, 325, 358. 
Alfred, 14, 20, 22. 
Alison, Archibald, 327. 
Allen, Elizabeth Akers, 456. 
Allibone, S. A., 466. 
Allingham, William, 348. 
Allston, Washington, 414. 
Ames, Fisher, 398. 
Anselm, 31. 
Arbuthnot, John, 192. 
Arnold, Edwin, 349. 

Matthew, 348, 377. 

Dr. Thomas, 328, 342. 

Arthur, T. S., 419. 

Ascham, Roger, 60, 66, 83. 

Atterbury, Francis, 183, 192. 

Audubon, John James, 419. 

Austen, Jane, 286. 

Ayton, Robert, 77. 

Aytoun, William Edmondston, 350. 



Bacon, Francis, 72, 92, 117. 

Roger, 31. 

Bailey, Philip James, 348, 378. 
Baillie, Joanna, 285. 
Bale, John, 61. 
Bancroft, George, 463. 
Barbauld, Anna Letitia, 284. 
Barbour, John, 46, 51. 
Barclay, Robert, 139, 140. 
Barlow, Joel, 403. 
Barnard, Lady Anne, 221. 
Barnes, Albert, 462. 
Barrow, Isaac, 137, 154. 
Baxter, Richard, 137, 154. 
Bayne, Peter, 324, 361. 
Beattie, James, 221. 
Beaumont, Francis, 80, 90. 
Becket, CTilbert Abbot 350. 
Beckford, William, 286. 
Bede, 20. 

Beeclier, Henry Ward, 463, 503. 

Lyman, 420, 434. 

Behn, Aphra, 166. 
Bell, Sir Charles, 323. 
Bellenden, John, 61. 
Bellows, Henry W., 463. 
Bennett, James Gordon, 466. 
Bentham, Jeremy, 287, 291. 
Bentley, Richard, 193. 
Berkeley, George, 193. 
Berners (Lord), 61. 
Bethune, George W., 463. 
Black, William, 355. 
Blackmore, Richard, 185. 

R. D., 355. 

Blackstone, William, 238. 
Blair, Robert, 185. 
Robert, 221. 

511 



512 



INDEX. 



Blind, Harry, 57. I 
Bloomtield, Robert, 283. | 
Boker, George H., 452, 454, 499. 
Bolingbroke, Lord, Henry St. John, 
193. 

Boswell, James, 229, 230, 235. 
Boucicault, Dion, 351. 
Bowles, William Lisle, 316. 
Boyesen, Hjalmer Hjorth, 458, 459. 
Boyle, Robert, 168. 
Bradstreet, Anne, 391, 393. 
Brewster, David, 324. 
Brigg-s, Charles F., 419. 
Bronte, Charlotte, 319, 351. 
Brooke, Henry, 224. 

Stopford A., 358. 

Brooks, Charles S., 350. 

Maria, 414. 

Phillips, 463. 

Brougham, Henry (Lord), 328. 
Brown, Charles Brockden, 417. 

Frances, 348. 

Dr. John, 361. 

Dr. Thomas, 287. 

Browne, Sir Thomas, 140, 156. 
Browning, Elizabeth B., 346, 347, 368. 

Robert, 346, 348, 373. 

Brownson, Orestes, 462. 
Bryant, William Cullen, 448, 474. 
Bviclianan, George, 77. 

Robert, 350. 

Buckle, Henry Thomas, 558. 
Bulwer, Edward Lytton, 350, 351, 354. 
Bunyan, John, 138, 155. 
Burke, Edmund, 237, 238, 249. 
Burnet, Gilbert, 169, 173. 

, Thomas, 169. 

Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 457. 
Burney, Frances (Madame D'Arblay), 

224, 286. 
Burns, Robert, 254, 263. 
Burton, Robert, 97. 
Bushnell, Horace, 463. 
Butler, Joseph, 226. 

Samuel, 134, 135, 148. 

William Allen, 452. 

Byles, Mather, 404. 

Byron, George Gordon, 277, 296. 

Caedmon, 18, 21. 
Camden, William, 99, 100. 
Campbell, Thomas, 288, 316. 
Carew, Thomas, 77. 
Carey, Henry C, 462. 
Carleton, W. W., 455, 
Carlyle, Thomas, 321, 339. 
Cary, Alice, 455. 



Gary, Phoebe, 455. 
Caxtou, William, 57. 
Centlivre, Susanna, 186. 
Chalmers, Thomas, 287. 
Chambers, Ephraim, 292. 

Robert, 292. 

William, 292. 

Channing, William E., 420, 421, 434. 
Chapin, Edward H., 463. 
Chapman, George, 80, 89, 91, 99. 
Chatterton, Thomas, 218, 219. 
Chaucer, Geoifrey, 42, 47. 
Chauncey, Charles, 390. 
Cheever, George B., 463. 
Cheke, Sir John, 60. 
Child, L. M., 427, 441. 
Chillingworth, William, 136. 
Cibber, Colley, 179, 185, 222. 
Clapp, Thomas, 391. 
Clarendon, Earlof (Edward Hyde),140. 
Clarke, Adam, 287. 
Clay, Henry, 425. 
Clemmer, Mary, 455. 
Clough, Arthur Hugh, 348. 
Colenso, John William, 326. 
Coleridge, Hartley, 316. 

Samuel Taylor, 312, 335. 

Colet, John, 55. 
Collier, Jeremy, 167. 
Collins, William, 209, 210, 244. 

Wilkie, 351, 355. 

Collyer, Robert, 463. 
Colman, George, 222. 

George, " The Younger," 285. 

Columba, 16. 
Columbanus, 16. 
Cook, Eliza, 348. 
Cooke, Rose Terry, 456. 
Congreve, William, 166, 167, 185. 
Cooper, James Fennimore, 417. 
Cotton, John, 389. 
Coverdale, Miles, 60. 
Cowley, Abraham, 134, 135. 
Cowper, William, 258, 266. 
Cozzens, Frederick S., 460. 
Crabbe, George, 283. 
Cranch, Christopher P., 454, 499. 
Cranmer, Thomas, 60. 
Crashaw, Richard, 76. 
Croly, George, 316. 
Crowne, John, 166. 
Cudworth, Ralph, 136. 
Cumming, John, 358. 
Cummins, Maria S,, 457. 
Cunningham, Allan, 284, 306. 
Curtis, George W., 467. 
Cynewulf, 19. 



INDEX. 



518 



Dana, Jamt's Dwiglit. IWi. 

Richard Henry, 414, 44'.i, 

Daniel, Samuel, 7-'>, 89. 
DarAvin, Charles, o56. 
Davenant, Sir William, 134, 135. 
Davidson, Lucretia, 414. 

• Margaret. 41 1. 

Da vies, John, 7.'). 
Davis, Eebecca Harding, 458. 
Davy, Sir Humphrey, 287. 
De roe, Daniel, 191. 
Dekker, Thomas, 80, 89, 91. 
De <)uincey, Thomas, 331. 
De Vere, Aubrey, 348. 
Dewey, Orville, 463. 
Diaz, Abby Morton, 459. 
Dickens, Charles, *51, 379. 
Dickinson, John, 402, 409. 

— Jonathan. 391. 

Disraeli, Benjamin, 3.")!, 355. 
Dixon, William Hepwortli, 359. 
Doane, George W.. 463. 
Dobell, Sydney. 348. 
Dobson, Austin, 348.350. 
Doddridge, Philip. 226. 
Dodge, Mary Mapes, 459. 
Donne, John, 75, 76. 
Doran, Dr.. 361. 
Douglas, Gawain. 57. 
Drake, Joseph Rodman, 41:!, 414, 428. 
Draper, John W., 461. 
Drayton, Michael, 75, 105. 
Di'ummond, William, 77. 
Dryden, John, 161, 171. 
Dunbar, William, 57. 
Duyckinck (Brothers), 466. 
Dwiglit, Timothy, 404. 

Edgeworth, Maria, 285. 

Richard Lovell, 285. 

Edwards, Jonathan, 39_', 394. 

Richard, 80. 

Eggleston, Edward, 157. 
" Eliot, George," 351, 354, 382. 
Eliot, John. 389, .390. 
Elizabeth, Queen, 100. 
Elliot, Ebenezer. 317. 
Jane, 221. 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 167, 506. 
Emmons, Nathaniel, 404. 
Erceldoune, Thomas of, 30. 
Evelyn, John, 170, 174. 
Everett, Alexander H., 425. 
Edward, 425. 

Fabyan, Robert, 61. 
Fairfax, Edwin, 99. 



Falconer, William, 221. 
Faraday, Michael. 324. 
Farquliar, George, 166. 
j Farrar, F. W., 358, 385. 
Fenn, John, 62. 
Ferguson, Robert, 221. 
Ferrier, Susan E., 286. - 
Fielding, Henry. 222, 223, 247. 
Fields, James T.. 458, 464. 
Fiske, John, 461. 
Fletcher, Giles, 75. 

John, 80 , 90. 

Phineas, 75. 

Flint, Timotliy. 424. 
Florio, John. 99. 
Folgev, Peter, 391. 
Ford, John. 80, 91. 
Forster, John. 359. 
Foote, .^amuel, 222. 
Fortesque, Sir John, 61. 
Fox, Charles James, 238. 

George, 139. 

John. 98. 

Francis, Sir Philip, 238. See Junius. 
j Franklin, Benjamni, 398, 405. 
Freeman, Edward A., 358, 359 
Freneau, Philip, 402, 403, 410. 
Froude, James Antliony. 358, 359. 361. 
Fuller, Margaret (Marchioness Ossoli), 
426. 

Thomas. 140. 

Furness, William H.. 463. 

Gait, John. 286. 
I Garrick, David. 222. 230. 
Gaskell, E. C, 351, 355. 
Gay, .John. 184, 198. 

Geottrey of Monmouth, 13, 29. 32, 38, 
79, 99. * 
i Gibbon, Edward, 228. 

Giiford, William, 291. 
I Gilbert, W. S., 351. 
I Gladstone, William E., 361. 
1 Godkin, Edwin L., 466. 

Godwin, William. 280. 286. 

Goldsmith, Oliver, 209, 212, 222, 239. 

Gosse, E. W.. 348, 350. 

Govild, Hannah F.. 416. 

Gower, John, 46. 

Grant, Robert, 357. 

Gray, Thomas, 209, 245. 

Greeley, Horace, 466. 

Green, John Richard, 358, 359. 

Greene, Robert, 80, 81, 85. 

Griswold, R. W., 427, 466. 

Grocyn, William, 55. 

Grosseteste, Robert, 31. 
2H 



514 



INDEX. 



Grote, George, 358. o59. 
Outlirie, Thomas, 358. 
(iuyot, A. H., 460 

Hakluyt, Richard, 100. 
Hale, Edward Everett, iG6. 

Lucretia P., 459. 

Hales, Alexander, 32. 
Hall, Edward, 61, 87. 

Joseph, 75, 77, 120. 

Robert, 287, 307. 

Hallam, Arthur Henry, 347. 
Henry, 326. 

Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 413, 415, 431. 
Hamilton, Alexander, 400. 

" Gail," 467. 

Elizabeth, 286. 

William, 221. 

Sir William. 323. 

Hardy, Thomas, 351, 355. 
Hare, Augustus, 326. 

Julius C, 326. 

"Harlaiid, Marion," 457. 
Harrington, James, 143. 

Sir John, 99. 

Harte, Francis Bret. 455. 
Hawthorne, Julian. 457, 

Nathaniel, 456, 501. 

Hay, John, 455, 
Hayne, Paul II., 456. 
Hazlitt, William, 331. 
Ileber, Reginald, 283. 
Helps, Arthur, 361. 
Hemans, Felicia, 317. 
Henry of Huntingdon, 32. 
Henry, Patrick, 397. 
Herbert, George, 75, 76. 
Herrick, Robert, 77. 
Herschel, Caroline, 323. 

John, 323. 

William, 287, 323. 

Heywood, John, 78. 

Thomas, 80, 91. 

Higden, Ralph, 32. 
Higginson, T. W., 467. 
Hildreth, Richard, 464. 
Hillhouse, James A., 417. 
Hitchcock, Edward, 460. 
Hobbes, Thomas, 96, 136, 161. 
Hodge, Charles, 463. 
Hogg, James, 284, 302. 
Holinshed, Ralph, 87, 99. 
Holland, J. G.. 454. 
Holmes, O. W., 451, 492. 
Home, John, 222. 
Hood, Thomas, 815, 337. 
Hook, T. E., 286. 



I Hooke, Robert. 168. 

j Hooker, Richard, 97. 119. 

Hooper, Thomas, 389. 
j Hopkins, John H., 463. 

j Mark, 463. 

i Samuel, 404. 

Hop kin son, Francis, 402, 409. 

Joseph. 413. 

Howard, Henry (Earl of Surrey), 57. 
j 64. 

I Howe, Julia Ward. 456. 

i Howell, Elizabeth Lloyd, 416. 

I Howells, W. D., 456, 458. 

■ Howitt, Mary, 332, 

\ William. 332. 

Hughes, John, 463. 
j Thomas, 351, 355. 

Hume, David, 226, 227. 

Hunt, Leigh, 331, 338. 

Huxley, T. H., 356, 385. 

Tnchbald, Elizabeth, 285. 
Ingelow, Jean, 348, 349. 
Irving, Edward, 287. 

Peter, 422. 

Washington, 422, 435. 

William, 422. 

Jackson, Helen Fiskc ("H. H."), 459, 
504. 

James 1st of Scotland, 56, 64. 

G. P. R., 319, 321. 

Henry, Jr., 458. 

Jameson, Anna, 360. 
Jay, John, 400, 401. 
Jefferson, Thomas, 401, 408. 
Jeffrey, Francis, 289, 290. 
Jerrold, Douglas, 318. 
John of Salisbury, 31. 
Johnson, Samuel, 215, 222, 224, 229, 230, 
248. 

Jones, Sir William, 238. 
Jonson, Ben, 80, 86, 87, 88, 116. 
Judd, Sylvester, 419. 
Junius, 208, 238, 248. 

Keats, John, 277, 281, 300. 
Keble, John, 324, 325. 
Kemble, Frances Anne, 350. 
Ken, Thomas, 169. 
Kennedy, John P., 419. 
Kenrick, F. P., 463. 
Kent, James, 426. 
Key, Francis S., 413. 
Kinglake, A. W., 3.58, 359. 
Kingsley, Charles, 348, 351, 355, 377. 
Kirk, J. F., 464. 



INDEX. 



5 



Kiiowles, James Sheridan, 317. 
Kiiox, John, 98. 
Krautli, C. P., 46o. 
Kyd, Thomas, 80, 81. 

Lamb, Charles, 329, 341. 

Mary, 330. 

Landoii, Letitia Elizabeth, 31(1. 
Landor, Walter Savage, 332. 
Laiitranc, 31. 

Langiande, William. See I'ikks Plow- 

Lanier, Siduej', loG. 
Larcom, Lucj', 456. 
Lathrop, G. P., 456. 
Latimer, Hugh, 60. 
Layamon, 28, 29, 30, 33. 
Lecky, William E. H., 358, 359. 
Lee, Harriet, 286. 

Henry, 404, 409. 

Nathaniel, 166. 

Sophia, 286. 

Leidy, Dr. Joseph, 461. 
Leland, Charles G., 455. 

John, 62. 

Lemon, Mark, 350. 
L'Estrange, Roger, 170. 
Lever, Charles James, 321. 
Lewes, George Henry, 359. 
— — Matthew Gregory. 286. 
Linacre, Thomas, 55. 
Lindsay, Anne (Lady). See Lady 
Anne Barnard. 

David, 57. 

Lingai'd, John, 288. 
Locke, John, 168, 172. 
Lockliart, J. Gibson, 286, 320. 
Lockyer, J. N., 357. 
Lodge, Thomas, 80, 91. 
Logan, James, 391. 

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 146. 
46S. 

Lossing, Benson J., 464. 
Lovelace, Richard, 77. 
Lover, Samuel, 319, 321. 
Lowell, James Russell, 450, 466. 487. 
LoAvtli, Robert, 225. 
Lydgate, John, 57. 
Lyell, Sir Charles, 324. 
Lyly, John, 80, 81, 96, 120. 
Lytton, Edward, Robert Bulwer 
(" Owen Meredith " i, 348, 349, 377. 

Macaulay, T. B.. 327, 340. 
3IacCarthy, Justin, 3-35, 359. 
MacDonald, George, 351, 384. 
Macltay, Charles, 348. 



Mackenzie, Henry, 286. 
i Mackintosh, Sir James, 287, 
; Macleod, Norman, 358. 
\ Macpher.son, James, 218, 219. 
I McClintock, John, 463. 
j McCosli, James, 461, 463, 

Mcllvaine, C. P., 463. 
, 31adison, James, 400, 401. 
Malory, Thomas, 61, (i7. 
Malthas, Robert, 287. 
' Mandeville, Sir John, 47, 52. 
Mann, Horace, 461. 
Manning, Archbishop, 358. 
Robert, 30. 35. 



3Iap, Walter, 30. 

March, F. A., 461. 

Marlowe, Christopher, 80, si. 

Marry at, Frederick, 319, 321. 
I Marsh, George P., 461. 

Marshall, John, 424. 

Marston, John, 80, 89. 91. 

Philip Bourke, 348, 350. 

Martinean, Harriet, 360. 

^ James, 35S. 

I Marvel, .Vndrew, 134. 
i Mason, John M., 420. 
I Massey, Gerald. 348, 349. 

Massinger, Philip, 80, 90. 

Masson, David, 359. 

Mather, Cotton, 389. 390. 394. 

Increase, 389, 390. 

Richard, 390. 

Maurice, J. T. D., :358. 

Merlin, 16. 

Mickle, Willisim .lulius. 220. 216. 
Middleton, Thomas, 80. 91. 
Mill, James, 287, 288. 

John Stuart, 357. 

Miller, "Joaquin." 455. 

Hugh, 324. 

Milman, Henry Hart, 318, 328. 
Milnes, Richard Monckton, 348. 37 
Milton, John, 127. 143. 
Minot, Laurence, 30. 
Mitchell, Donald G., 4()7. 
Mitford. Mary Russell, 286, 3ls. 31! 

William" 28s. 

Moir, David Msicbeth, 350. 
Montague, Chnrles. 185. 

Lady ^\av\ ^^■()rtley, 183. 

193. 

Montgomer.v, James, 316. 
Moore, Thomas, 282, 288. 
More, Hannah, 2^1. 

Sir Thomas. 58, 61, 65. 

Morgan, Lady, 286, 
Morley, Henry, 359. 



516 



INDEX. 



Morley, John, 359. 
Morris, George P., 416. 

William, 318, 349. 

Motherwell, William, 284. 
Motley, John Lothrop, 463, 464. 
Moulton, Louise Chandler, 408. 
Mliller, Max, 360. 

Mulocli, Dinah (Mrs. Craik), 351, 354, 
383. 

Murray, Lindley, 404. 

Xairn, Baroness, 285. 
Napier, W. F. P., 288. 
" Nasby, Petroleum V.," 460. 
Nash, Thomas, 80. 
Neal, John, 417. 

Joseph C, 459. 

Newman, John Henry, 324, .325. 
Newton, Sir Isaac, 167, 172. 
Norton, Andrews, 420. 

Caroline E., 348. 

Thomas, 79. 

Nott, Eliphalet, 420. 

Occam, William of, 32. 
Occleve, Thomas, 57. 
Odin, 11 

Oliphant, Mrs., 351. 
Opie, Amelia, 286. 
Orm, 29. 

Osgood, Frances, 416. 
Ossian, 16, 219. 
Otis, James, 897. 
Otway, Thomas, 166. 
Owen, Richard, 356. 

Paine, Robert Treat, 413. 

Thomas, 238, 402, 409. 

Palfrey, John G., 464. 
Paris, Matthew, 32. 
Parke, Edwards A., 463. 
Parker, Theodore, 462. 
Parkman, Francis, 464. 
Parnell, Thomas, 185. 
" Partington, Mrs.," 460. 
Parton, James, 464. 
Patmore, Coventry, 348, 349. 
Paulding, James K., 419, 422. 
Payne, John Howard, 414, 417. 
Peabody, A. P., 463. 
Pecock, Reginald, 61. 
Peele, George, 80, 81. 
Penn, William, 139, 169. 
Pepys, Samuel, 159, 170, 175. 
Percival, James G., 417. 
Percy, Dr. Thomas, 221, 274. 
Perry, Nora, 456. 



Petei' of Blois, 31. 
i Peters, Phillis Wheatley, 403. 
: Phelps, Elizabeth Stuart, 459. 

Phillips, Ambrose, 184. 

Piatt, Mr. and Mrs., 456. 

Pierpont, John, 416. 

Piers Plowman, 45, 49. 
i Pitt, William (Lord Chatham), 207, 238, 
250. 

Plumber, W. S., 463. 
I Poe, Edgar A., 413, 415, 431. 
Pollok, Robert, 283. 
Pope, Alexander, 179, 194. 
Porter, Anna Maria, 286. 

Jane, 286. 

Prentice, George D., 466, 
Prescott, William Hickling, 428, 487, 
463. 

Preston, Margaret J., 456. 

Priestley, Joseph, 227. 

Prior, Matthew, 185. 

Procter, Adelaide A., 348, 349, 376. 

Bryan Waller, 348, 374. 

Richard A., 357, 

Pusey, Edward B., 324. 

Quarles, Francis, 76. 
Quincy, Josiah, Jr., 401. 

Kadclift'e; Anne, 286. 

Kaleigh, Sir Walter, 97, 106. 

Kamsay, Allan, 184, 

David, 404. 

Kay, John, 168. 

Raymond, Henry J., 466. 
■ Read, T. B., 452, 453, 496. 
1 Reade, Charles, 351, 355. 
I Reed, Henry, 426, 443. 

Reid, Mayne, 351. 

Thomas, 226. 

I Ricardo, David, 287. 

! Richardson, Samuel, 222. 

I Ridley, Nicholas, 60. 

i Robert of Gloucester, 30. 

I Robertson, Frederick W., 325, 341. 

' William, 229. 

' Roger de Hoveden, 32. 

Roger de Wendover, 32. 

Rogers, John, 60. 

Samuel, 316. 

Rolle, Richard, 30. 

Roscoe, William, 288. 

Rossetti, Christina Gabriela. 349. 

Dante Gabriel, 348, 349. 

Gabriel, 349. 

Rowe, Nicholas, 166, 185. 

Rowley, William, 80, 91. 



INDEX. 



517 



Bowson, Susanna, 417. 
Bush, Benjamin, 419. 
Buskin, John, 360. 
Bussell, Irwin, 455. 
William, 169. 

Sackville, Thomas, 75, 79. 
Sala, George Augustus, 351, 355. 
Savage, Richard, 231. 
Saxe, John Godfrey, 451, 500. 
Scliatt", Philip, 463. 
Schliemann, Dr., 361. 
Scott, Sir Walter, 275, 288, 293. 
Scotus, Duns, 31, 32. 

Joannes, 20. 

Sedgwick, Catharine M., 418. 
Settle, Elkanah, 166. 
Shadwell, Thomas, 166. 
Shaftesbury, Earl of, 192. 
Shakespeare, William, 72, 80, 83, 106, 
122. 

Shea, John G., 464. 
Shedd, W. G. T., 463. 
SheUey, Mrs., 281. 

Percy Bysshe, 277, 280, 298. 

Shenstone, William, 221. 
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 222, 238. 
Shirley, James, 80, 91. 
Sidney, Algernon, 170. 

Sir Philip, 96, 119. 

Sigourney, Lydia H.,414. 
Silliman, Benjamin, 419. 
Simms, William Gilmore, 419. 
Skelton, John, 57. 
Smith, Adam, 227. 

Horace, 317. 

James, 317. 

Seba, 460. 

Sidney, 289. 

Smollett, Tobias George, 222, 223, 228. 
Somerville, Mary, 356. 
South, Robert, 169. 
Southern, Thomas, 166, 185. 
Southey, Caroline Anne, 315. 

Robert, 288, 314, 337. 

Southwell, Robert, 75. 
Spalding, Martin John, 463. 
Sparks, Jared, 424. 
Speed, John, 99, 100. 
Spencer, Herbert, 357. 
Spenser, Edmund, 72, 73, 86, 101. 
Spofford, Harriet Prescott, 458. 
Sprague, Charles, 414. 
Spurgeon, Rev. Charles H., 3.58. 
Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn, 358. 
Stedman, E. C, 455, 456. 
Steele, Richard, 179, 188, 190, 204, 
44 



Stephens, Alexander H., 464. 
Sterne, Laurence, 222, 223, 247. 
Stewart, Dugald, 287. 
Stockton, Frank R., 459. 

John D., 459. 

Louise, 459. 

Thomas H., 459. 

Stoddard, R. H., 452, 454, 498. 
Stone, Samuel, 389. 
Story, Joseph, 426. 

W. W., 454, 500. 

Stow, John, 99, 100. 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 457, 501. 
Street, Alfred B., 416. 
Strickland, Agnes. 359. 
Stuart, Moses, 420, 421. 
Suckling, Sir John, 77. 
Sullivan, Arthur S., 351. 
Sumner, Charles, 462, 
Swain, Charles, 348. 
Swift, Jonathan, 179, 186, 199. 
Swinburne, Algernon Charles, 348, 349, 
378. 

Sydenham, Dr. Thomas, 168. 

Talfourd, Thomas Noon, 318. 
Taliesin, 16. 

Tannahill, Robert, 284, 305. 
Taylor, Bayard, 452, 494. 

Sir Henry, 318. 

Jeremy, 136, 151. 

Tom, 350. 

Temple, Sir William, 170. 
Tennyson, Alfred, 346, 361. 
Thackeray, Miss, 351, 355. 

William Makepeace, 351, 353, 

381. 

Thaxter, Celia, 456. 
Theobald, Lewis. 179. 
Thomas, Dr. Joseph, 466. 
Thomas, the Bhymer, 30, 
Thomson, Benjamin, 420. 

James, 209, 217, 222, 243. 

Thoreau, H. D., 467. 
Ticknor, George, 464. 
Tighe, Mary, 283. 
Tillotson, John, 169. 
Timrod, Henry, 456. 
Trench, Richard Chenevix, 358. 
Trivet, Nicholas, 32. 
Trollope, Anthony, 351. 

Frances, 319, 320. 

Thomas Adolphus, 320. 

Trowbridge, J. T., 455, 456. 
Trumbull, John, 402, 403, 411, 
Tuckerman, H. T., 466. 
Tupper, Martin F., 348. 



518 



INDEX. 



Turner, Sharon, 288. 
" TAvain, Miivk," 4d0. 
Tyndale, \Yilliam, .'>!). 66. 
Tyiulall, John, ;!56, ns.'). 
Tyng, Dudley A., 460. 

Stephen S., 463. 

Tytler, Patrick Frazer, 288. 

Udall, Nicholas, 79. 

Vanbrugh, John, 166, 185. 
Verplaiick, (lulian C, 427. 

Wallace, A. R., 356. 

Horace Binney, 427. 

AValler, Edmund, 134, 135. 
AValpole, Horace, 224. 
Walton, Izaak, 141. 
Warburton, William. 226. 
" Ward, Artemus,'* 460. 
Ware, Henry, 420. 

William, 419. 

Warner, Charles D., 460. 

Susan, 457. 

William, 75. 

Warren, Mercy, 404, 417. 
Warton, Joseph. 221, 248. 

Thomas. 221. 

Wasliington, George, 400, 407. 
Watts, Isaac, 185. 
W^ayland, Francis, 461, 463. 
Webster, Daniel, 425, 440. 

John, 80, 91. 

Noah, 428. 

Welby, Amelia B., 416. 
Wesley, Charle.-. 225. 

John, 225. 

Whately, Richard, 326. 
Wheaton, Henry, 426. 



Whewell, William, 323. 
Whipple, E. P., 466. 
White, Henry Kirke. 283. 
Whitetield, George, 225. 
Whitney, A. D. T., 458. 

W. D., 461. 

Whittier, J. G., 449, 478. 
Wigg-lesAvorth, Michael, 391, 394. 
Wilkin.son, .John Gardiner, 328. 
William of Malmsbury, 32. 
William of Occam, 32. 
Williams, Roger, 389. 
Willis, N. P., 416. 
Wilson, Alexander, 419. 

John, •• Christopher North," 

320. 

Thomas, 61. 

Winter, William, 456. 
AVinthrop, Theodore, 457. 
Wirt, William, 424, 439. 
Wiseman, Nicholas, 326. 
Wither, George, 134. 
Witherspoon, John, 401, 408. 
AVollstoncraft, Mary, 280. 
AA'^oods, Leonard, 420. 
WoodAvorth, Samuel, 413. 
Woolman, John, 391. 
Woolsey, Theodore, 462, 463. 
Worcester, .Toseph E., 428. 

Noah, 420. 

Samuel, 420. 

WordsAA'orth, William, 311, ;;33. 
Wotten, Sir Henry. 75. 
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, 57. 
Wycherley, William, 166, 167. 
Wyclifte, John, 41, 46, 51, 59. 
Wyntoun, Andrew of, 57. 

Young, Edward, 209, 218, 222. 241. 




311.77-1 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: iVIagnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Jan. 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724) 779-2111 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




024 291 766 2 A 




